Warriors Challenge Book
by The Moon's Silent Echo
Summary: Moon's complete collection of challenges for the forum(s) she is on. From drabbles to runaway apprentices, all Moon's challenges are stored here- and some will be better then others. Moon particularly likes Nightly Murders, so if you care to browse, she'd recommend checking out that one.
1. MistClan Drabble

**Drabble:**

Morning comes swiftly as mother robin flying back to her chicks. The strengthening sun promises hope and chance and brings with it a new day and a new start. Sometimes lives can change overnight, but everything still seems perfect in the morning light. It's when the sun shines done on my back, golden rays spilling across the forest greenery, that's when I see what I see. I see a world full of opportunities- if only we will take them. Some say they leave no chance behind, but I see differently. I know they lie, but I never know quite why.


	2. MistClan I Had No Choice

**I Had No Choice:**

Lionpaw growled, sinking his claws into the moss he had been collecting as the queen let out with her high-pitched, insistent mew. "You didn't bring enough moss!" Daisyflower whined. "What are Sorrelfern's kits going to do without any moss?"

"I'll get some more," he snarled, spinning around and kicking the moss he had already collected later. "But not for you, you arrogant selfish furball."

She let out an angry screech as he left, pushing past him and darting over to the clan deputy. He could hear her mew as she spoke to the brow tabby warrior, Brackenheart. "Did you not hear Lionpaw?" she was raging. "Calling me an arrogant, selfish furball! I insist you have a word with that apprentice!"

Lionpaw slipped out of camp before he could be called over and broke into a run. He was tired to the queens and the elders and the kits and the warriors and everyone else. The duties and the expecting he didn't want to hold up. The warrior code that trapped him like a web did a fly. In this life, there was nothing that let him be free... And Lionpaw was ready to leave this life behind.

Breaking into a run, he pounded towards the far edge of the territory, his golden pelt weaving through the trees. Then, suddenly, Lionpaw was in wild land, crashing through trees he had never seen before and scrambling up and down slopes that he had never set paw on before. Lionpaw finally stopped, panting, at the edge of a line of trees.

The sun was setting, casting long shadows on the forest. Lionpaw sniffed the air, knowing he should head back to camp before his clan mates started wondering where he was. _No! That isn't my home anymore! I have to find a den, not return to some cats who I don't even like!_ His head down, he trotted through the closest trees until he found a semi-protected hollow to rest in.

Curling up in the uncomfortable den, he buried his head under his paws and closed his eyes. Briefly, Lionpaw wondered if his golden pelt would attract foxes and badgers, but he fell asleep before his thought train could continue any longer.

When the sun rose and the birds began to sing, Lionpaw rose to his feet and scented the air. His belly was rumbling and he knew he had to hunt, but he couldn't spend one moment longer with such an uncomfortable den. Maybe he would switch dens, or maybe he just add bedding, but Lionpaw couldn't let it be as it was any longer. Yawning, he padded towards a twisting aspen tree that streaked into the sky.

At one spot three fairly large branches all met, an the open space was supported by smaller twigs and branches. Curious, Lionpaw hauled himself up the tree until he was at the point. It seemed strong enough to him, and when he placed one paw on the branches, they held tight enough. As long as he weaved in more branches to make it stable and stronger, Lionpaw decided it would make a good den.

"Lionpaw," he mewed, trying to sound like Brackenheart. "Go find the biggest and strongest branches you can to patch up the warrior's den." Nodding in satisfaction, he turned and darted into the trees to search for the wood.

By sun-high, he had a notable pile of sticks and branches. Grabbing the first one, he carefully maneuvered his way up the aspen and weaved the branch into the mishmash as best he could before returning for and to the next one. Lionpaw was gratefully for his youth; it brought him slender, graceful paws that made precise and delicate moves as he weaved together a sturdy den.

When the sun was setting, marking the second night he would spend out of camp, Lionpaw added in the final twigs. He would, to his own irritation, have to sleep in the hollow for one more night, but at least the fact that he had a brand new den to return to in the morning made it easier to bear. Tomorrow he would add in the moss and get some prey at last; Lionpaw could barely wait until he could silence the hungry cries of his belly.

The second day went by quickly; he finished the aspen den and managed to catch a small vole, which he devoured almost instantly. For a moment he had felt guilty that he was breaking the warrior code, but then he had reminded himself the he no longer lived by the code. He would never receive a warrior name; in fact, he shouldn't even have an apprentice name.

Lion went to sleep that night in his new den, comfortable and peaceful and satisfied. The day had been a successful one, for sure.

The next morning he devoted his time to hunting to build up a fresh-kill pile for the upcoming leaf-bare season, and the morning after that he started building up a bramble wall around his nest in the aspen branches. Soon he was stuffing clumps of leaves into the wall on the inner side so he wouldn't scratch himself, and then he was adding feathers from a pigeon he had caught to his nest. Day after day his life grew better and better until Lion was completely satisfied.

Except for one thing. Lion was still all alone. He had no friends and no family. In leaf-bare, there would be no shared warmth with fellow apprentices or warriors. When he reached his twelfth moon, he would have no one to celebrate with him, even if he wasn't to get a warrior name. Lion, in the lightest but heaviest sense, missed ThunderClan from his tail to his nose.

But he wasn't about to allow such weakness. Lion hauled himself down the aspen tree and sniffed the air, relishing the smell of mouse. He dropped into a hunter's crouch and began to stalk when a gray-and-white shape crashed out of the bushes. The name flashed to him. "Daisyflower," he greeted coldly. "What are you doing here?"

Daisyflower's eyes widened momentarily before she regained her composure. "I was sent on a _mission_ ," she sneered. "And you, traitor?"

"Enjoying my life like a true cat," Lion responded, eyes narrowed. "Hope you got your moss. Not."

"Don't worry," Daisyflower purred innocently. "Brackenheart found a _loyal_ apprentice who was very kind and willing to help out. You might remember Paleheart yourself, Lion _paw_."

"I think you have something wrong with you," Lion mewed pointedly. "I don't even remember a -paw at the end of my name. I'm Lion and always have been."

"Liar," Daisyflower snorted. "Look, I've better things to do then hang around with the likes of you." Then she spun around and left.

Lion didn't feel lonely anymore.

He lived the rest of his life peaceful and happy.


	3. MistClan Second Child

**Second Child:**

(Yes, another poem [maybe combo] challenge. I like these poems for some reason.)

 _Once upon a time_

 _On a very sunny day_

 _Upon a mossy bed_

 _Was where a silver cat lay_

 _Beside her was a little kit_

 _Small and newly born_

 _He suckled from his mother_

 _And relied on her for warmth_

 _Soon enough he had grown up_

 _But mother still loved him so_

 _It was as if he still was young_

 _But now full-fledged and known_

 _But then there was a second kit_

 _From the mother's newest litter_

 _And immediately the two were close_

 _But not the first-born child_

 _Instead he felt all alone_

 _Like the new kit had stole his mom_

 _And even though he whined and fussed_

 _His mother only frowned_

 _So one day he cornered the little son_

 _And spoke as harsh as stone_

 _He told the little kit of how_

 _He'd pay for stealing mom_

 _The kit was scared but did not speak_

 _He knew his end was near_

 _Yet still his mom saw through his act_

 _And forced truth from both her kits_

 _How angry she was when the truth was said_

 _But she remained as calm as ever_

 _And then she turned to both her kits_

 _And told them if they loved her_

 _That they would be like best of brothers_

 _So the two walked together_

 _And tried to be their best_

 _She watched them oh so carefully_

 _Every detail and every mess_

 _But when she surprised them with a purr one night_

 _Both kits were surprised_

 _Neither protested to their beloved mother_

 _But their minds were questioning life_

 _The next day mother ordered the two apart_

 _And so they went about their day_

 _Surprised at the empty feeling that came_

 _And at night the two snuck and met_

 _Relieved to be with each other again_

 _But mother saw and mother knew_

 _And out she stepped towards the two_

 _"Now you love each other!" came her happy mew_

 _"Now you both are brothers."_

 _The two sons shared a glance_

 _And let out a rusty purr_

 _Once it seemed impossible_

 _But now it all was true_

 _Maybe there really had been_

 _An answer besides death_

 _For peace to come to two of them_

 _Even if one was not at rest_

 _But here there was a solution_

 _Where all three were happy as could be_

 _And the first child knew_

 _He would wish it no other way_

 _Now there were three_

 _As if there had never been two_

 _But they knew better then to think so_

 _For the past was burned into each mind_

 _Of mother and son and second son_

 _None would ever forget_

 _The fateful moment when the elder had_

 _Threatened death to his younger brother_

 _And once upon a time_

 _Inside the warrior's den_

 _Were three cats_

 _A family_

 _Who were close as close could be_

 _The sun would rise and set_

 _The moon would do the same_

 _But no one could stop the three_

 _From pausing in their truest game_

 _Birds would sing_

 _Prey would die_

 _Rain would fall_

 _Day and night_

 _But never would a single one_

 _Of the three loving cats_

 _In their family tree_

 _From being who they loved to be_

 _But how did you stop_

 _From drawing and endless circle_

 _No one knew and no one cared_

 _They deemed it unimportant_

 _But little did they know_

 _That sometime in the future_

 _A circle's end might mean their life or death_


	4. MistClan Silver Waters

**Silver Waters:**

(Written in the style of a poem~)

 _Life's too short,_

 _To dawdle and dither._

 _Decisions must be made,_

 _Before death can arrive._

 _There's a whole life to live,_

 _But not enough time,_

 _To see all there is to see,_

 _Or any other thing._

 _I've seen life,_

 _And I've seen death,_

 _Neither are pretty,_

 _But the world cannot stop spinning._

 _So when you go to a pool,_

 _With shimmers and sparks._

 _When the omen is clear,_

 _That you'll suffer a death._

 _Don't listen to that pool,_

 _If StarClan says,_

 _You'll live the best of lives,_

 _And keep going on._

 _I once was a kit,_

 _Who dreamed of a future._

 _I once was a paw,_

 _Who believed she could do all._

 _I once was a warrior,_

 _Who thought she was the best._

 _But soon I saw,_

 _That I was not,_

 _That I still must strive,_

 _To be the top._

 _But when I went,_

 _On a visit,_

 _To talk to my ancestors,_

 _And read their signs._

 _What I saw,_

 _Was confusing and all._

 _But not as much,_

 _As what the stars said._

 _How do you solve a puzzle,_

 _When there is no end?_

 _How do you fix a broken stick,_

 _When you've never learned before?_

 _And you wish you may,_

 _And you wish you might,_

 _But you might not have,_

 _That wish tonight._

 _And StarClan says,_

 _I'll be the best._

 _But the moonpool says,_

 _I'll die._

 _So what do you do,_

 _When doom might be coming for you,_

 _But if you had the choice,_

 _Never would you die?_

 _What do you do,_

 _When your destiny could be great,_

 _But you don't know how to achieve it,_

 _Or if it will come straight to you?_

 _And poetry,_

 _Oh, poetry,_

 _How do you describe,_

 _Those angelic words of poetry?_

 _What draws the line,_

 _That makes it good?_

 _Who decides whether,_

 _You've done good or bad?_

 _So when you go to a pool,_

 _With shimmers and sparks._

 _When the omen is clear,_

 _That you'll suffer a death._

 _Don't listen to that pool,_

 _If StarClan says,_

 _You'll live the best of lives,_

 _And keep going on._

 _Life's too short,_

 _To dawdle and dither._

 _Decisions must be made,_

 _Before death can arrive._

 _There's a whole life to live,_

 _But not enough time,_

 _To see all there is to see,_

 _Or any other thing._

 _I once was a kit,_

 _Who dreamed of a future._

 _I once was a paw,_

 _Who believed she could do all._

 _I once was a warrior,_

 _Who thought she was the best._

 _But soon I saw,_

 _That I was not,_

 _That I still must strive,_

 _To be the top._

 _But when I went,_

 _On a visit,_

 _To talk to my ancestors,_

 _And read their signs._

 _What I saw,_

 _Was confusing and all._

 _But not as much,_

 _As what the stars said._

 _I don't understand,_

 _These stars and these signs._

 _What is a story,_

 _VS what is true?_

 _How am I to decide,_

 _Where the life's end line is drawn?_

 _Do I even,_

 _Have the choice,_

 _To choose how I go down?_

 _Or not?_

 _A world is so confusing,_

 _But what draws the line?_

 _Is there an end,_

 _To everything?_


	5. MistClan Trail of Thunder

**Trail of Thunder:**

Shadows pooled around her, encasing her in a dark void of black. Slowly, uncertainly, she set one paw down and shivered in relief as it held still. The air whipped around her, gusting into her at full speed and making her stumble. Humidity made the air thick and harder to breathe; she gasped in a breath and shuddered, digging her claws into the ground.

"Maybe we should turn back?" The cat who had said the words was streaked with brown mud, and his fur was flattened by the wind so you could only see the base color of his pelt. He was talking to a she-cat who suffered the same muddy-windy combo, her ears flat with determination and eyes narrowed to protect them from the blows.

She lifted her head and watched the two cats for a moment before letting out a startle yowl as the wind knocked her flat onto her side. Rolling for a moment, she managed to flail a paw out and catch a root with a claw. In that moment of peace she managed to thrust herself into a hollow in the roots where she found minimum shelter from the wind.

"Never," spit the other she-cat, her tail lashing even through the fierce wind. "Don't be a mouse brain, Oakfoot. You know we have to speak with StarClan, and it's all the better that Silverpaw has the experience. She'll learn to be strong like a true warrior." Somehow managing a run, she burst forwards and charged out of sight.

Watching as Oakfoot glanced at her, she shuffled her paws. It wasn't hard to admit she was a failure, at least to herself, and the journey seemed impossible with such high winds. The warrior shrugged at last and continued onwards, beckoning for her to follow. She scrambled behind him, letting the warrior act as a windbreak.

By the time they caught up to the other she-cat, she was waiting at the side of a long stretch of gray stone. Giant, metallic-colored creatures roared up and down it, and yellow-and-white stripes ran along it at points. "Ivystar," Oakfoot mewed respectfully, dipping his head. "I hope we didn't make you wait."

"Only a few million seasons," Ivystar snorted, before point her tail at her. "You, Silverpaw. Cross the thunderpath. You can go first so we can see if you've learned anything or not." Silverpaw shuffled her paws but padded up to edge of the gray stone beside her leader and stared out at it, back braced against the roaring winds.

Placing one paw carefully on the very edge of the thunderpath, Silverpaw shivered at the warm and sticky hard substance that she felt under her paw. She winced as Ivystar gave her a shove that sent her tumbling onto the thunderpath, coating her whole pelt with the acrid stench. The roaring of the wind seemed to grow louder as a monster flashed by, only a mouse-length away from her nose.

"What are you?" Ivystar yowled. "Some sort of beetle? Get up and cross the thunderpath like a proper clan cat!" Shuddering, Silverpaw rose to her and took a small step forwards, followed by another. She had flattened her ears to Ivystar's jeering yowls, wishing Oakfoot would stand up for her. She had never learned how to cross one of these giant expanses of gray stone. How was she expected to do it?

Her eyes closed, leaving her blind and deaf to everything except her own consciousness. Struggling forwards through the wind, Silverpaw kept on trying to sink her claws itno the grip-less stone without any luck in finding some sort of hold to keep her steady. At one point, her whiskers stopped their lashing about as if the wind was dying down, but the next moment her whiskers where whipped by the wind again.

Then something rammed into her, and Silverpaw let out a screech as she was flung into the air. She landed with another yowl of pain, her pelt burning like fire. The monster howled as it came to a stop, its side opening up to let a twoleg clamber out and hurry over to her. Silverpaw's gaze was edged with red, her world numbing in the face of pain. She could feel her eyes closing, slowly but steadily.

"Silverpaw!" Oakfoot's terrified yowl rung out into the windy night air as her mentor pounded across the thunderpath and joined her, followed by a wide-eyed Ivystar. The twoleg waved its hands at them, muttering something. Then it held something shiny to its ear and started to speak into the device urgently. Silverpaw never knew what happened next; her eyes had closed completely and she was drifting into unconsciousness.

When she woke up, starry pelted cats were surrounding her.


	6. MistClan Designed to Blood or Loyalty

**Destined to Blood or Loyalty:**

(This time a combination between poetry and story)

 _What is the thing_

 _That ties one to another_

 _Is it a string or a life_

 _Or a threat or a fight_

 _What makes for loyalty_

 _And who draws the line_

 _Between person and friend_

 _And temple and shrine_

 _How many deaths_

 _Could it take to split_

 _Two life-long friends_

 _From one to the next_

I grew up in ShadowClan. I am ShadowClan through and through. Every bone of me is loyal to ShadowClan, the place where I was raised. Or so I thought I was. Dear kits, you might see nothing more then a ageing elder before you now, but there is more to each cat then what the eye sees. There is more to each clan then the eye sees, as well.

You might have heard that some cats clan our clan despicable. They tell tales of our brutality and cruel nature. Some of these stories, I must admit, are true. Still, I want you to always remember we are a fierce and loyal clan and we will always be so, no matter what you might think of what I am about to tell you.

You see, there once was a kit who grew up in ShadowClan. She was ferociously loyal to her clan and would give her life for it in an instant- not that it ever came to that. Her parents were said to be dead- her mother caught greencough soon after giving birth to her and her father had died long before, leaving the young one all alone as an orphan.

She was one of the fiercest and bravest warriors, with great skill in battle. But no matter how strong she was in war, she wasn't strong enough to face things when she it was revealed to her that she was not ShadowClan as she had been told, but she really was, in fact, ThunderClan born. At less then a moon old, she had been stolen from her mother's belly and brought to ShadowClan. Her mother was killed that same day for good measure.

In fear for that kit's life, ThunderClan had never spoken up about it. But every battle they fought with ShadowClan in the future was for that kit, in an effort to win her back over. Who was that kit, you ask? We'll get to that later. For now, let's focus on the real problem- the fact that she been deceived for so many moons, day after day.

But what side did that cat choose when she learned? Which clan did she stay with? Was it blood or loyalty? I'll give you each one guess; those of you who think our clan can stand up, and those who don't can sit down. I see you are split; most of you think ThunderClan, but there are still some who feel it is our clan who truly won her loyalty in the end.

The three of you who stand now are correct. She choose ShadowClan, the clan she had been raised to love and be loyal to. And those two things, that love and that loyalty, were stronger then any deceive. She didn't care; besides, the leader who had stolen her was dead at that point. There were no grudges to be held, for the warriros had only followed through with their orders. And all in all, she had been accepted in ShadowClan and would always be so.

Who was that kit, that apprentice, that warrior? You keep repeating the question no matter how many times I tell you not to. But I'm ready for that now; I'm ready to share with you who that was. Me. Yes, me. Are you surprised? I can see you are, at least, your eyes lit up at the words. Do you think differently of me now? In a bad way or a good way? Don't worry, I don't care. I would be surprised if your didn't think bad or feel bad for me, but I've grown used to it. Don't worry.

Now good day, kits. Run along and enjoy the sunshine, and remember that even though ShadowClan isn't always the brightest of clans, they will always be the best clan.


	7. Bright Lights Drabble

Blackness... Darkness... An endless void.

He had just left her there, like she hadn't been worth saving.

She was a cat, too! Did she not deserve the same respect, especially after she saved him? Didn't her sacrifice matter? If StarClan hadn't saved her, she would have died to make sure he lived. Even then, she still had a permanent limp and had one blind eye.

Did he have any sense of honor? What was he thinking, leaving his rescuer to die?

She shivered, even though it felt as if she was standing in fire.

Why was she left to die?


	8. BrightLightsBrokenPromisesandHarmfulLies

The sound of the solid thud of muscle slapping the ground rang out into the air. Firekit scrambled back to his feet from the ground, glaring at the tortoiseshell who opposed him. Her red patched black fur was all the kit could see as he focused his golden gaze on her paws.

Slowly, he crept forwards, taking off with a massive leap and crashing into the she-cat's side as she reared up to avoid his blow. But, before she could strike him, Firekit sprung to his feet and sunk his jaws into her unprotected belly. His opponent let out a yowl of pain as she dropped down, crushing him beneath her.

He gasped for breath, trying to squeeze out from beneath her but failing under her greater wait. Cackling, she forced more wait onto his shoulders, and Firekit took in a final breath before shutting his jaws and trying in vain to squirm forwards into open space.

A few moments passed until his nose stuck out from under the tortoiseshell, and Firekit sniffed in the new breath, refreshing his strength. One of his hind paws managed to touch one of the tortoiseshell's, and he used it as a push off point, propelling him free of her.

Once safe, he leapt back to his feet and spun around. She was already pouncing for Firekit, and the ginger tabby tom barely had time to duck before she sailed over his head.

"Stupid kit," the tortoiseshell snarled. Before Firekit could move or even look at her, she sank her own teeth into his tail. Letting out a yowl of agony, Firekit twisted away, trying to free himself.

But she had a strong, firm grip, and she stubbornly refused to let go. Slowly, Firekit sunk to the ground, red dotting the edges of his vision.

Was he going to die right here and now in this murky forest, all because of a tortoiseshell catching a grip on his tail? Firekit shuddered, trying to rise back to his feet and failing.

"Redfang! Enough!" A furious snarl caught Firekit's attention. He managed to turn his head, golden gaze landing on a silver tabby tom. Darkstorm.

Darkstorm grabbed Redfang's scruff and hauled her away from Firekit, forcing her to release her grip on Firekit's tail. The ginger tabby kit lay there, panting, his tail feeling worse then it ever had before.

"It's just a kit!" Darkstorm growled. "You, of all cats, should know that. Which means that he's to be protected until he's at least ten moons old! You don't want to get rid of such a promising young cat, now do you?"

With a sinking feeling, Firekit realized what Darkstorm's words meant. If his normal mentor hadn't interfered, the ginger tabby kit would be dead right now.

"It's not my fault he's so weak," Redfang snarled. The tortoiseshell bushed out her fur, tail lashing. "If you've managed to teach that scrap anything, it's that he might as well give up and die! He's hopeless!"

Darkstorm lashed forwards with one paw, raking his claws down Redfang's chest. For a moment, the tortoiseshell stared at him, shocked, but then she narrowed her eyes in rage. Still, she said and did nothing but turn around and stalk away.

"Wake up, Firekit," Darkstorm mewed gently. "Get yourself some rest and let your medicine cat tend to that bite on your tail."

Firekit nodded obediently and curled up, drawing his injured tail over his nose. In only a few moments, he was blinking himself awake in his nest, his tail stinging like fire where Redfang had bit it.

Drawing himself to his feet, Firekit was careful not to disturb the tortoiseshell form of his sister. At first, he was tempted to rake his claws over Sorrelkit's ears; then, the ginger tabby tom kit remembered that this was not Redfang. This was merely his sister, Sorrelkit, an innocent tortoiseshell she-kit who had no idea how to fight like Firekit could.

* * *

"Kits, be careful! Firekit, promise me you won't sneak out of camp, will you?" Brightfern called to them. Firekit bristled angrily, daring his mother to ask his sister to make the same promise. But Brightfern stayed silently, staring at Firekit with unreadable amber eyes.

Firekit rolled his own golden eyes and turned away, bounding across the clearing towards the fresh-kill pile. Leaning down, he sniffed a mouse, remembering with a start Darkstorm's mission for him. His mind reeled as he recalled his mentor's words, a surge of pride filling him at the thought that he had been trusted with this mission.

Of course, it wasn't a very important mission; all he had to do was kill Sorrelkit. Firekit sniffed arrogantly and glanced over his sister, searching for Sorrelkit. She was stalking through the shadows towards him as if she was hoping to surprise him.

Choking back a bitter laugh, Firekit risked a second glance. His eyes lit up at the sight; Sorrelkit had her neck stretched forwards, providing the perfect opportunity for Firekit to sink his jaws into Sorrelkit's throat and kill her.

Sorrelkit's eyes shadowed as he slipped to the side. Then, Firekit leapt forwards, grabbing Sorrelkit's throat and dragging her out into the clearing where he could see her better. The ginger tabby kit sunk his teeth in as best he could, remembering the night where Redfang had nearly killed him just by latching on to his tail.

For a moment, Firekit flinched, before he lifted one claw and sliced it across Sorrelkit's face. His sister gasped, blood welling in the scratch right above her eye and down her nose bridge. "Firekit!"

Firekit narrowed his eyes, swiping again, this time at Sorrelkit's flank. His claws drew a long wound down her side, and she cried out, her breaths coming in ragged puffs as Firekit's grip on Sorrelkit's throat began to take its toll.

Sorrelkit's legs buckled beneath her, and the tortoiseshell collapsed to the ground, dead. Firekit let go and stepped back, kicking the tortoiseshell form roughly. Revenge was all he could think of- if only this had been Redfang he had killed.

"Redkit!" Brightfern's terrified call rang out. "Redkit, what have you done?"

"He murdered his own sister!" A cry rang out, full of shock and horror. "Firekit killed his sister!"

"Did you see that? Right then and there! He's a murderer, and just a kit, too!"

"Killer! He'll destroy us all one day!"

"Someone get revenge on that nasty kit- who even taught Firekit such deadly things? His mother?"

"What?" the furious roar rang out. Immediately, the camp was silent. "Firekit killed Sorrelkit? What nonsense!"

Birchstar padded forwards, stopping mid step as he saw Firekit's bloodstained pelt and Sorrelkit lying dead on the ground. Firekit bared his teeth, showing his fangs off to his leader. "I did it for Darkstorm," he hissed happily. "I completed his mission!"

A long moment of silence followed before Birchstar spoke again, his voice trembling in shock.

"Firekit, I exile you from this clan! Go now!"

Firekit hurried out of camp and into the wild.

* * *

"Good job!" Normally, Darkstorm's approving mew would have filled Firekit with pride. But today, Firekit felt strange inside.

"I've been exiled." Firekit shook his head slowly. "How is that good?"

Darkstorm moved forwards. "Because living through exile will only make you stronger, Firekit! Remember when I first met you, when I promised to make you the strongest cat alive and all that you would have to do to make that happen was train with me?"

Firekit took a step back. Could he really trust Darkstorm? He had been so eager as a kit to learn to fight and to be strong, but now it seemed like darker shadows lined Darkstorm's words.

Why train him? What was special about Firekit? Nothing, to say the least. There was no reason to choose him to train. He didn't need special help, and he was already one of the strongest kits in the nursery even without Darkstorm. So why?

Unease prickled in Firekit's heart. "Get away from me," he mewed slowly. "I'm done being trained."

Darkstorm tilted his head. "You've a very long way to go until strongest, Firekit," he responded after a moment. "Do you really think you are ready to go without my training?"

"I'm very fine, thank you very much," Firekit snapped.

"No you aren't!" Darkstorm hissed, leaping for Firekit's throat. The kit barely dodged in time. "No cat escapes the Dark Forest as a traitor to us alive!"

Firekit widened his eyes and sprinted away as fast as he could, but he knew Darkstorm would easily catch up with him. The thundering sound of Darkstorm's paws pounding the ground as the warrior chased the exiled kit made Firekit flinch; he only had a few seconds, at most.

Before he could take shelter or anything, Darkstorm had pounced and landed on Firekit's back. The strong warrior dragged him to the ground and pinned him, hissing menacingly. "There's only one way to live through this," Firekit heard him say.

"How?" Firekit responded through gritted teeth. He refused to show weakness.

"Kill you sister's spirit."

" _What_?" Firekit's mew of disbelief rang around the clearing. "That's all? Kill Sorrelkit a second time?"

A flash of tortoiseshell caught his attention, and Sorrelkit's scent wreathed around him. "I _could_ make a sacrifice for you, brother," she mewed. "But I remember you killed me, so I'm not very willing to let you kill me. But die or live," she added. "It's your decision, really."

Truth dawned on Firekit; he was a murderer. He had killed his best friend and sister all in one. He had left his mother and clan heartbroken. He had broken the warrior code. He had even been exiled because he had listened to Darkstorm.

No, Darkstorm wasn't his friend. Darkstorm and his friends were not cats to be trusted, and Firekit could see that now. Their promises had all been lies, and those cats held the greatest evil in their hearts.

"Where did you come from?" Firekit hissed.

Darkstorm growled in response. "You know that, Firekit. The dark forest, where the strongest cats go."

"Liar! Where the evil cats go!" Firekit retorted. "You might as well kill me now. There's no way I'm ever going to fall for your tricks again- and kill my sister in the process!"

"Then I'll kill her myself," Darkstorm hissed.

Horrified, Firekit didn't move a muscle as Darkstorm turned and leapt for his sister's spirit. In only a few moments, a terrible screech rang out and Sorrelkit's spirit lay limply on the ground, fading rapidly. Her dull eyes seemed to twinkle with a final message at him: _I saved you from the dark forest and helped show you they were bad. I let you kill me, and if I hadn't, then Darkstorm would have killed you. I saved you life, but now you don't save mine._

Firekit was about to scamper away when a hard blow on the back of his neck sent excruciating pain scorching through him. The ginger tabby kit collapsed to the ground, barely able to feel the pain as Darkstorm raked his claws down Firekit's side.

He deserved this. He had committed murder- twice.

But would he go to StarClan or the Dark Forest? Did he even deserve either?

Firekit shivered and let the life in his body leave him forever.

* * *

 _"You committed murder, but let yourself die to make up for it," the silver she-cat who had greeted Firekit mewed. "There is no right place and no wrong place for you to go. It is merely your decision."_

 _"I go nowhere," Firekit responded instantly, his sturdy kit body tucking itself into a sitting position. "I will wait here until I fade at the very end of time."_

 _The silver she-cat hesitated but dipped her head. "If that is what you choose," she warned. "Then that will be how things must be forever. You must go nowhere. You really must wait here until you fade."_

 _"And I will wait," Firekit vowed. "I deserve no afterlife of any sort."_

 _In a few moments, the silver tabby had left, leaving the ginger tabby to sit there, keeping still as stone, for the rest of time. His golden eyes stared out into nowhere as he held his position, completely frozen._

 _Little did he know that things could change._


	9. Bright Lights Trollfic

"Com on Stupidfkit' Prettykitt caled,. 'u r gonna b late 4 r appentce crmony'

"Donut remd hm, my awsom little kitty pettykit u r teh ony 1 who dserves a apprentice nam" hr mum sed 'u suld lt hm b a kit 4evah'

";kay mom, u r rght bt im still righter okay/

okay,' slverstrip respondd. u r write u r rlly awsme'

'okay so prettttykt u r nw my apprentice bt sinc u r so awsm u r gonna b a wrror rigt now. I can nw nam u prettyawesomecat uglystr mooed "and since u r so mch awsmer ten me u r gonna b teh neww ledr 2'

'om str cats thans ill be teh bst ledae evah' she sed n respons

'PRETTEHSTR

PRATTSTER'

teh clan chred cus prettystar ws rally awesme and she was gonan b teh bst ledaer evah and seh wus gonna lve 4evah 2 cus seh ws so awsme

"OKaY nOEW EVERY1 BW 2 ME' TEY DD SCUS SEH WSS SJST TAT AWSM LKE OMG SAWSME!111!EEFQWE!

PETTYSTAR TEY SED 'ETTYSTAR"

seh took tem 2 teh gathern n tey all hd cak it ws goodsd ck cus prettykt ws a god bakr

bt pettyawesmect wnted a cook e so seh mad a cookie n seh ate it cus it ws a grate ciike aftr al seh ws te 1 whoe md it

now tat tey hd all eaten tey wnt hme and took over shadowccat prettystr became teir leda cus she was soooo asweme!11!1!11`

it ws s grate dia cus prettystar became ruler of all teh clans cus she was so awesome!111

every car loved prettystar tey did whatever seh aske tem 2

an tey started folln hr instead of starcats !11!

(99( n prettystar ws lke teh best leader evah)0v

omg prettysta sed 'I m teh bst cat evahhhhh and ill be so 4evah omg'

and graystripe sed 'wat abt omps'

'YEAHHHHH OMPS FTW!11!' pretty clan chred

pettystarkit was teh best cat eveah


	10. Bright Lights Misfit

She was struggling. Limping. Every step was full of pain. Her vision was tainted with red and the world swayed before her eyes.

Her tail was dragging limply on the ground and she held up one forepaw close to her chest. Her pelt, once a beautiful black, was a solid crimson red, stained scarlet by her own blood.

One ear was nearly torn off, and every step left behind a bloody paw print. Her amber eyes were full of exhaustion, as if in just a few more steps she would crumple in die.

But she had to make it there. She had to get there. She had heard so many rumors about them... Maybe they could save her. Maybe they could protect her. Maybe they would let her be one of them.

They had a code of honor to follow and warrior ancestors to believe in. Everywhere one of them went, they had the silent but forever loyalty and companionship of their friends.

Unlike them, though, she was all alone. She had no one, not even a belief in the stars. She was just her puny self, a rogue about to give up and die. After the attack, she was so ragged... so torn...

She wanted to live- she needed to live -but it impossible for her to survive. Impossible for her to hunt. Impossible for her to sleep. Impossible for her to do anything but continue limping forwards until she made it to them.

And here they were. The strong scent of cat hung heavily in the air, taunting her as she carefully made her way down the slope. She knew, somehow, that once she pushed through the thorn thicket ahead of her, their they would be, just as she had always imagined them.

So she pushed through. Three final steps, leading her into a large hollow. Three final steps, taking her into a whole new world. Three final steps, bringing her into the middle of a strange group of cats.

"Intruder!" she could hear them yowling. "Guar the queens! The elders! Some cat get Stormstar!"

They were taking up defensive positions around her, preparing to leap and fight.

"Where are the others?" some cats called, fear evident in their voice. "It's going to be an ambush! Don't lose sight of your den mates!"

A pale light brown tabby she-cat was hurrying towards her, followed closely by a dark gray tabby tom and a silver-and-white she-cat. The pale light brown tabby held a bundle of leaves in her jaws as she skidded to a halt before the ragged she-cat.

The dark gray tabby tom narrowed his eyes, inspecting her suspiciously. "Rogue," he was snarling. "It's a rogue."

"What's she doing here?" the silver-and-white she-cat was asking herself. "A rogue! In the ThunderClan camp! Nearly dead, too!"

She sank to the ground, her crimson-stained fur barely making the cold, hard surface beneath her tolerable. "Please," she gasped, flanks heaving. "Please let me stay. Please let me join your clan."

Then everything went black.

* * *

She awoke in a cave, her scarlet fur groomed thoroughly back to its normal shade of black. Cobwebs and strange dressings covered her various wounds, and the stony area itself smelled heavily of herbs and cat scent. A small trickle of water fed a small pond in the corner, but she did not have to go there to drink; a soaked moss ball had been left beside her.

The pale brown tabby she-cat from earlier hurried over. "Are you alright?" she was asking, but to her the words were barely distinguishable. Her mind was racing into the past, trying to figure out how she got here. The last thing she could remember before waking up here was collapsing in the hollow.

"Who are you?" she tried to ask, but the words sounded so chopped, so broken, that she doubted the other cat could understand her. "Why am I here?"

The pale brown tabby crouched beside her, murmuring soft, uncomprehend able words. She could barely register the feeling of the she-cat gently grooming the back of her head and neck.

Her eyelids began to droop, and soon she found herself fast asleep.

* * *

 _"Ebony! Get over here!" the black-and-white she-cat scolded. "Don't wander away like that without your father or I!"_

 _Hanging her head, Ebony trotted over, her tiny kit paws pattering the ground. "I'm sorry, mother," she mewed quietly. "Snow, Hail, and I just wanted to have some fun."_

 _A white she-kit stared at her, blue eyes wide with faked disgust. "You made me!" she whimpered, pressing against their mother's pelt. "Mommy, Ebony made me!"_

 _"I was really scared, Mama," a black-and-white tom added piteously. "I thought I was going to die!"_

 _Ebony shot a glare at her two littermates before continuing to trudge back to her mother. Her soft black pelt was covered with mud and dirt, making her look more like some sort of fierce creature then a kit. She could only begin to imagine her father gently teasing her and calling her a rabbit._

 _She softened at the thought of her father. Unlike her mother, her father was kind and gentle towards her. He didn't believe black cats were bad luck. He thought black cats were good luck. "I'm really sorry," she repeated absently. "When will father be coming? Isn't it time he comes and brings some prey for us to eat?"_

 _"He'll be coming soon," Mother retorted tartly. "But you won't be having anything no matter how much food he catches today."_

 _Tail dragging in the dirt, Ebony curled up on the ground, wrapping her tail over her nose._

 _When she woke up, it was night. Her mother was pacing across the clearing anxiously, shooting a protective and motherly glance towards where Snow and Hail slept every so often. "Oh, Shade," she was whispering. "Please tell me you're not dead."_

 _Ebony jumped to her feet. "Father hasn't come?" she mewed worriedly, forgetting that it would be best to keep quiet._

 _Mother swung her head to glare at Ebony, eyes blazing. "This is none of your business! Go back to sleep!"_

 _In silent refusal, Ebony spun around and bounded into the bushes. She had to find her father! He was the only one who cared! Eyes narrowed in determination, she sped through the shadowed forest blindly, unsure where to go and where to not go._

* * *

She opened her eyes, staring wildly around. She was still in the cave and the cobwebs and herbs were still covering her wounds. The pale brown tabby she-cat was curled up in a mossy nest, her flanks rising and falling gently with every breath.

Dragging herself to her feet, she gazed around the cave for a moment, the vivid memories from her dream rushing. Of how, all those seasons ago, she had run away from the one source of protection she had had. How she had made herself alone and vulnerable. How she had stumble upon her father's dead body the next day, a squirrel, a sparrow, and two voles dangling from his jaws.

Of how she had journeyed for three more days after that, trying desperately to find her mother. Of how she had found Blaze's group. Of how she had joined them, having nowhere else to go. Of how she had been trained to be brutal and to kill everyone who entered her group's territory. Of how she had learned to be a killer. A murderer.

She shuddered, her memories overwhelming her. The moonlight was pooling at her paws, making them sparkle in a sense. With a great sigh she glanced back at the pool, the water glistening slightly. It seemed to be calling to her, whispering, _Drink. Don't be afraid. Don't give up. Just drink. Replenish your strength._

Nodding slowly to herself, she heaved herself to her paws and struggled to the pool to crouch and sip the water.

* * *

"Get the rogue," the order rang out.

Shivering, she closed her eyes as tightly as she could, trying to fake sleep. Maybe they would leave her alone if she seemed to be resting.

She had no such luck. Teeth sunk into her scruff, dragging her further and further away from her warm nest. Struggling to find her feet, she sprung away and walked in a somewhat dignified manner towards where the pale brown tabby she-cat was. At least she seemed friendly enough towards her.

The dark gray tabby tom from earlier was sitting next to her, his eyes narrowed. "Who are you?" he demanded as she padded quietly up.

"I am Ebony, a rogue who wishes to join your clan," she mewed formally, trying to recite the words she rehearsed in her head long before she had struggled into ThunderClan's camp. "And you?"

His bristles told her that was the wrong thing to say. "I am Stormstar," he snapped. "Leader of ThunderClan. Where do you come from?"

"I come from the forest," she replied simply, flicking her tail. "Why do you ask?"

"For the safety of my clan. Who were your parents?"

"My mother and father. Duh. Does this matter?"

"Yes. What were their names?"

"I called them 'Mother' and 'Father'. Like any sensible kit. You did the same, I assume."

"Will you shut up? Can you hunt?"

"Do you honestly expect me to answer your questions when you make me shut up?"

"Are you going to rebuke me every time I ask you a question?"

"Am I expected to not voice my own thoughts after every answer?"

"Don't I have the rights to speak without you questioning me?"

"Won't you accept the answers I give you?"

"Are they even true answers?"

"Wouldn't I know whether they are right or wrong?"

"Can I trust you when you say you are telling the truth?"

"Yes, and I am telling the truth, but when did I say I was telling the truth?"

The dark gray tabby tom lashed his tail. "Stop this," he growled.

She flicked her tail, taking a step back. "And now you're telling me to shut up again," she mewed, rolling her eyes in irritation.

"You may return to your nest, Ebony."

* * *

She was rising to her feet when she noticed something strange. The pale brown tabby she-cat wasn't there. So she had padded to the entrance of the cave and had seen the dark gray tabby tom standing on a ledge, speaking to his cats.

He had been telling them about her and they had been making a vote. A vote on whether she was to stay or to go.

A vote where nearly every cat voted for her to go.

She watched in horror as a second vote was started. A vote to decide whether to kill her or to let her go alive.

A vote where nearly every cat voted for her to die.

She bushed out her fur, eyes wide. She was trembling in fury, but unable to speak her protests. Instead she could only watch as the ranks of warriors turned and charged towards the cave.

She didn't know what she was thinking when she ran away. Away from the cats who could have and would have ended her pain. The pain of knowing she had done wrong so many times and got away with it.

She was running away from a destiny that she probably deserved. A coward. Yes, she was a coward. She, Ebony, the misfit, the rogue, the coward. The one who got away.


	11. DarkClan Drabble (130 words)

Dark shadows streaked across the clearing, making jagged slices across the leaf-mulch. Up above, through the thick canopy of the forest, the moon shown and the stars twinkled alongside it. Night had fallen and encased the forest in its ebony grasp. Only the sound of the faint yet consistent breathing of the black-furred rogue showed signs of life, but even that would be ended soon.

If she had known what the future would be for her, maybe she would have done things very differently. Maybe things wouldn't have even turned out the same way in the end; maybe she would be able to prevent her murder.

There was only one thing she could here and feel before the murderer struck; a sickly, strangely hollow sense of mixed peace and foreboding.


	12. DarkClan Bittersweet Revenge (1,604 wd)

The rising dawn sun cast golden light upon the ThunderClan camp, a light that trickled into dens and filled each corner of the hollow with a soft light. The sparkling glow danced from crag to nook to cranny, highlighting every object as the sun began to rise.

Slowly but steadily, quiet murmurs began to fill the air as cats awoke and gave themselves quick morning grooms; a troop of three apprentices slipped out of their den and headed towards the honeysuckle bush that protected the elders while two warriors emerged into the main clearing and trotted towards the fresh-kill pile.

Sounds of birdsong trickled through the air, accompanied by a whispering wind that carried scents of prey and the lake. A group of four cats padded towards the thorn barrier, tasked with the duty of dawn patrol.

At this point, only a few cats still remained in their nests, snoozing away quietly with their tails curled around them like a scarf except for one cat, who had her tail draping out of her mossy nest and trailing across the ground until it tapered away to a thin tip.

The cat was an apprentice, small and young looking for her age but with lean muscles easily seen beneath her short coat of pale brown tabby fur. Her black forepaws twitched every so often as if she was dreaming.

In the vacant nest next to hers, the moss was still warm as if a cat had only just left it. The scent was nearly identical to the smell of the pale brown tabby, yet it wasn't quite the same.

"Fawnpaw!" called a sweet, honey-like voice, yet the tone that underlined it was full of frustration and impatience.

The pale brown tabby pricked her ears and blinked her sleep-crusted eyes, revealing pale amber orbs that, when reflecting the sun, glowed like tiny stars. She hesitated, as if expecting a second yowl, before yawning and scrambling to her feet. She flicked her tail tip from side to side as she groomed her messy fur with quick, rapid strokes of her pink tongue.

Just like the tabby had expected, another call came, but this time in the form of a yowl. The honey-layered voice had become gruffer and sterner as if the cat saying the words was tired of waiting. "Fawnpaw! Now!"

An irritated growl escaped the apprentice as she straightened, using one forepaw to smooth her whiskers before padding daintily out of the den in which she sheltered.

Immediately, she was surrounded by the swarms of cats that made up the rest of ThunderClan. The she-cat reared onto her hind legs and glanced away, her pale amber gaze fixing on a dark brown tabby she-cat. Her fur was bristling and she stood next to a gray-furred tom, her green eyes blazing with anger.

Slowly, the pale brown tabby dropped back down and weaved smoothly through the crowd until she had reached the duo, dipping her head slightly to them as she plopped herself into a seated position.

The dark brown tabby she-cat growled softly. "Took you long enough, Fawnpaw."

Acknowledging the comment with a twitch of her whiskers, Fawnpaw let out a careless yawn as she settled down into a crouch.

"I hear you've been causing trouble again, Fawnpaw. So this time you've messed with the elders and put mouse-bile in their food, is that right?" The she-cat continued, her eyes narrowing at the apprentice's carefree reaction. "What have you to say for yourself now?"

For a moment, anger blazed in the pale amber orbs before the emotion vanished, leaving the undersized pale brown tabby she-cat to dip her head. Then she spoke, her voice soft and quiet, mewing, "I didn't do it, Sparrowflight."

The gray tom broke in, his blue eyes hard and emotionless as he studied Fawnpaw. "Then who did do it?" he asked, voice full of power and authority.

Fawnpaw didn't respond, instead letting her gaze skirt the clearing and land on another pale brown tabby cat, this one a tom. His own pale amber eyes flashed guiltily as he met her gaze before the two both looked away.

"Just as I thought," Sparrowflight responded, voice full of contempt. Oblivious to Fawnpaw's actions she swung her head to look at the gray tom. "How shall we punish her this time, Jaystar?"

Blue eyes glittering, Jaystar's gaze fixed on Sparrowflight. "She be confined to camp for half a moon and will be the sole cat in charge of taking care of the elders for the next moon."

Sparrowflight nodded vigorously before glancing back at the pale brown tabby she-cat, her eyes full of satisfaction as she echoed the leader's words. "And last pick of the fresh-kill pile every day," she added at the end, raising her head slightly as Jaystar nodded his approval. "Now, off you go!" she finished.

Eyes a shade darker then they originally were, the pale brown tabby she-cat slowly rose to her feet and slipped away, padding over to join the pale brown tabby tom who had shared a guilty look with her.

She settled down close beside him, her pale amber orbs fixed on his own pale amber orbs.

"What do you want?" he asked, voice surprisingly powerful and confident in comparison to Fawnpaw's quiet mew.

"Shut it, Hawkpaw," Fawnpaw retorted, pale amber eyes blazing again. "I'm tired of getting in trouble for your pranks."

The pale brown tabby tom twined his tail with hers, his eyes taking on a fake-looking hurt scheme. "What?" he mewed, voice suddenly soft and innocent. "I don't know what you mean, sister dear."

Lashing her tail away from his, Fawnpaw let out a low hiss. "You know exactly what I mean, and you'd better confess about all of it to Jaystar soon or I'll… I'll flay you!"

Hawkpaw widened his eyes for a moment. "I'll think about it," he mumbled, not sounded very convinced that his sister could nor would do such a thing.

Somewhat satisfied, Fawnpaw rose to her feet, padding swiftly towards the honeysuckle bush.

…

"Are you hungry, Fawnpaw? Oh, wait, I bet you had plenty of mouse bile while you taking care of the elders," the gray-and-white furred apprenticed mocked as the pale brown tabby she-cat limped slowly towards the fresh-kill pile.

She flattened her ears, blocking out the jeers of her fellow apprentice as she took a small vole to eat. After a few moments, a black she-cat told the gray-and-white tom off and sent him to fetch new bedding for the queens.

The warrior's words echoed in Fawnpaw's mind as she took a small bite of her chosen meal. 'Thistlepaw, leave Fawnpaw alone! She's worked hard today and you standing around here like a useless limp of fur doesn't help anyone!'

Her pale amber eyes didn't miss the blink of approval, gratitude, and agreement that a gray tabby tom sent to the black warrior.

Soon enough, a pale brown tabby tom came padding in through the thorn entrance, a squirrel and two mice dangling from his jaws. He dropped his catches on the fresh-kill pile before snagging a robin and padding over to the side of the clearing to eat. Fawnpaw tracked him with her eyes one ear pricked in his direction.

When nothing happened, the pale brown tabby she-cat carefully picked up her vole and hurried to crouch next to him.

"Have you talked to Jaystar?" she hissed, eyes flashing.

Hawkpaw glanced swiftly from side to side, looking like he was trying to avoid the question. "We can't talk about this in front of the whole clan!" he responded.

Fawnpaw let out a sniff of disbelief and rapidly took a second bite of her vole before rising to her feet and flicking her tail for Hawkpaw to follow. Then, the she-cat strutted across the clearing towards the dirtplace tunnel.

Scrunching her nose, she stood in the shadows at the side of the dirtplace, waiting for her brother to emerge. It didn't take long for Hawkpaw to push his way through the tunnel into the clearing, tail low in reluctance.

"So?" Fawnpaw demanded. "Have you talked to Jaystar?"

"No," Hawkpaw admitted after a heartbeat. "And I'm not going to."

"That's what I thought you'd say!" she growled in response, fur bushing out in anger.

The pale brown tabby she-cat hesitated, her mind racing over the decision she had made that day during her time with the elders. She checked the reasons, wondering if it really was the best choice to make.

It would mean she wouldn't be in anymore trouble and, in a sense, it would free her.

But it would mean breaking the warrior code and everything else that she had strived to become.

Fawnpaw sunk her claws into the ground, watching Hawkpaw as her uneasily waited for her to continue. "I promised I would flay you if you didn't," she mewed simply.

Then she leapt.

Struggling in her grip, the pale brown tabby tom was knocked to the ground. "Y-you never gave me a time limit," he gasped, trying to use his hind legs to kick her away.

The pale brown tabby she-cat barely reacted to his words, instead leaning forwards and sinking her jaws into his exposed throat. She didn't let go until her brother's struggles stopped and he lay limply on the ground. Then, at last, she stepped back, ruefully cleaning the wound of blood.

Once she had hidden his body, then she could return to camp and be free at last from her brother's pranks and troubles. Then, at last, she could serve punishments for things she had done.

Then, everything could be perfect.


	13. DarkClan Nightly Murders (3,066 words)

Night feel over the forest, casting shadows across the woods. Silver moonlight trickled in through the canopy and spilled out onto the leaf-mulch floor. A quiet wind snaked through the trees, ruffling the ferns and leaves just so.

The ginger tabby shape nodded to the camp's guard, a lithe brown tabby tom, before slipping out through the thorn tunnel. They were night hunting, intent on catching prey and then returning to camp all before dawn.

A vole was searching around the roots of a beech for food, whiskers twitching as it looked for something that it could eat.

Sniffing the air, the ginger tabby easily picked up the vole scent and dropped into a crouch, pricking their ears. They would catch this for the clan.

It didn't take long for to stalk the vole, stealthily sliding their paws over the ground as they stalked forwards. With a mighty leap, they brought the vole down and gave it a quick bite on the back of its neck to kill it.

The cat reared back on their haunches and peered around, eyes suddenly alert.

A fern was quivering just slightly, as if another creature had disturbed it. Cautiously sniffing the air, the cat let out a small mewl as they spotted a shadow in the shape of a living animal.

"Is anyone there?"

The question sliced through the air like claws slicing through flesh.

A moment of silence passed, and then a dark shape hurtled out of the bushes. Another cat. Rearing, the first cat met the second with claws unsheathed and ears back.

For a few heartbeats, the two rustled, before the second cat raked their claws down the first's face.

A second swipe down the chest was followed by a battering at the first cat's belly. There was an agonized yowl as the second cat lunged forwards, sinking their jaws into fur and flesh. A death grip on the throat.

It didn't take long for the first cat to be lying on the ground, dead, as the sun rose above the horizon and cast a gentle light upon the limp body and tinted the bloodied fur with gold.

Stepping back, the murderer turned and vanished into the bushes, a tiny speck of blood being left behind from every step they took with their right forepaw.

…

"-dead! She's dead! My mate is dead! Killed! Murdered!"

The yowl jerked the black-furred she-cat awake, and she glanced side to side wildly. Had she heard correctly? Someone had been murdered?

She slid through the rows of nests and out the den entrance, blinking in the sunlight. A dark brown tabby tom was wailing in distress, his claws tearing at the ground. Before him was the limp body of a white she-cat, her fur bloodied and ragged.

Staggering backwards, she stumbled over a twig and leaned against the warrior's den slightly for support. Whitesplash was dead… and so were her unborn kits.

Whatever cat had committed this… this murder would pay. She shakily dipped her head in Whitesplash's direction, murmuring, "I will avenge you. I promise."

"Owlwing!" A worried shout sounded out. An older she-cat, her fur matted in places, hurried towards the grieving tom and nuzzled him. Her pelt was identical to his, her dark brown tabby stripes mimicking his perfectly.

"You," a tortoiseshell she-cat called. "Nightflower, fetch two others and investigate the murder site. Owlwing, where did you find her?"

Owlwing raised his head for a moment, his voice cracking as he spoke. "B-by the trai-aining h-hollow, Spottedstorm."

Spottedstorm nodded. "Okay, you got that, Nightflower?"

Nightflower slowly nodded and turned, limping towards the warriors den. She paused just outside to give herself a quick grooming, lifting up her right forepaw to clean it. Instead, she merely stared at in shock, startled by what she saw.

Blood.

Quickly licking it off, she checked her other paws carefully before slipping into the warriors' den.

Two cats huddled next to each other, eyes dark as they twined their tails together. "Brightmist, Cedarwing, we're to investigate the murder scene." She told them, waving her tail for emphasis.

"Right, Nightflower," Cedarwing responded, straightening to his feet and joining her.

Brightmist followed him a moment later, stretching each leg in turn.

Leaving the den, the three hurried out of camp and into the forest. Nightflower led them at a bound towards the training hollow, jaws open to scent Whitesplash's scent.

Soon, they stumbled upon the clearing, skidding to a halt at the sight of crimson staining the ground.

Nightflower padded quietly forwards and sniffed the scarlet puddle. "Whitesplash," she murmured. "This is the spot."

Splitting up, the three investigated the clearing, sniffing every nook and cranny and looking everywhere for clues of the murderer.

"Paw prints!" Brightmist exclaimed, eyes wide.

"Bloody paw prints," Cedarwing echoed, joining her. "Nightflower, look at this."

Joining the two, Nightflower blinked in astonishment. A single bloody paw print meant there had to be another bloody paw print, most likely! "It's a trail," she whispered. "A trail to the murderer."

Cedarwing pointed out a second paw print, and Nightflower found both the third and fourth. The path felt somewhat familiar, as if she had taken this trail through the forest before. Maybe as an apprentice, say.

The process continued, finding and following the red paw prints. Eventually, they climbed a ridge, shocked to stare back down towards the camp entrance. In the shadows were the last of the paw prints, hidden from sight if you didn't know what to look for.

"A ThunderClan cat!" Cedarwing breathed, sounding horrified. He was stiff with shock, fur bristling.

"One of us?" Brightmist responded, pressing close against him. "Are you sure?"

"There's no other answer," Nightflower answered darkly. "Come. We must tell the clan."

…

Shocked mews erupted at the news. A few of the apprentices gathered in a tight huddle, casting anxious glances at their clan mates before making vows to each other that they weren't the murderer.

Nightflower sighed, rolling her eyes. She had already gotten used to the shock, being as she had led the patrol that discovered it, but the clan seemed to be taking it much worse then she had. Besides, vows of allegiance could be made and broken by a murderer!

The ginger she-cat on the high ledge waved her tail towards Spottedstorm, who rose to her feet and padded up to the stone slab. "ThunderClan, we have decided to now keep two guards on watch; one watching out of camp and one watching inside camp. Today we will carry out duties as normal. Keep your eyes open for clues, but-" she stared sternly at each apprentice in turn "-don't run off looking for the murderer."

"Now, Redfoot can lead a hunting patrol, and so can Cedarwing. Choose three cats each and split the territory between your patrols." Spottedstorm ordered. "I'll take one border patrol myself and cover WindClan and the rogue forest. Hollyfrost will lead a border patrol to cover the other borders. Three cats each as well. Now go!"

The clan burst into activity; Nightflower found herself trotting towards Hollyfrost, waving her tail towards the dark gray tabby she-cat to get her attention. "May I join your patrol?"

"Of course," Hollyfrost responded. "Brambleheart, will you and Badgerclaw join us?"

The two toms nodded agreement and padded over to join them as the group made their way towards the camp entrance. It was going to be a long, jumpy day, but the cats of ThunderClan were going to survive.

…

Night had fallen again. Two sentries kept guard, each of them watching a different thing.

A cat got to their feet, standing carefully in their mossy nest. The glanced around the den before stepping gingerly around a sleeping shape to stand before another cat.

Leaning down, they sank their jaws into the throat with the same death grip that had killed Whitesplash the day before.

When they headed back to their nest, leaving the cat dead, they left a single bloody footprint behind on their right foreleg.

…

Nightflower yawned, stretching as she awoke. For a moment she listened, waiting for a yowl of shock to ring out, but none did.

Relaxing, the warrior got to her feet, feeling exhausted in spite of her rest. For a moment she leaned back, grooming herself, only to discover another fleck of blood on her right forepaw.

After a heartbeat of concern, she groomed the blood off, dismissing it as merely a delusion. Hallucination. Fake.

Then a yowl rang out from just behind her, shocked and horrified. "Cloudpatch! He's been murdered!"

Spinning around, Nightflower stared at the limp black-and-white shape with wide eyes. "No! Not another one!" she whispered.

It only took a heartbeat for her to spot the bloody paw print. "Look," she added, pointing. "The murderer left a trail, and if we follow it maybe we can figure out who's the killer."

"Good idea," Spottedstorm mewed, joining her. "But that's the only paw print. Where would we go from there?"

"I don't know?" Nightflower responded. "You're the deputy, don't ask me."

…

One cat was struck down the next night, and another cat the next. ThunderClan had entered a bloody era of death.

Every night, now, two guards stood in each den. The process was exhausting, yet the murderer always made their strike. The murderer always won.

Each morning, the elders roused themselves, making sure they were all still alive before trudging out to find the newest addition to StarClan's ranks so that they could bury them safely in the ground.

Nightflower herself was nearly at a mental break down; every morning she had woken up to blood on her right foreleg, only to find at least one bloodied paw print near the murder scene. Every path felt familiar, and she had even had a dream that she had killed Ivyleg. The next morning the silver tabby had been found dead.

Then, at last, the morning came where Nightflower found herself standing over Hazelfur's dead body, her claws red with blood as she stared down at the dead warrior.

The murderer had been found.

The murderer was her.

Nightflower tip-toed around her clan mates for the rest of the day, terrified that she would kill them all in her sleep and terrified of the monster she had become. But she couldn't give herself in, or she would die herself. Spottedstorm and Flamestar would make sure of it.

…

"You did it! I know you did! Murderer! Coward! You killed my mate!" Owlwing roared. His claws scored repeatedly down Nightflower's side, making her screech with pain.

"Mercy! Don't kill me, Owlwing! I didn't know!" she yowled in response, writhing but not trying whole-heartedly to dodge the blows.

Owlwing let out a fierce shriek and let loose with another blow, this time aiming for her head.

Nightflower shuddered but let the blow connect. It left her winded and gasping for air as Owlwing lunged for her throat.

Jerking awake, Nightflower shrieked, jumping to her feet and bounding out of the warrior's den. Other cats followed suit, as if thinking she had found the newest StarClan addition.

Nightflower paused for just a moment, glancing down to see the familiar blood on her right forepaw. Shuddering, she licked it off before turning back to the gathering of cats behind him. They didn't deserve to all die but she couldn't turn herself in…

Flamestar's ginger pelt caught her eye as she bounded over to Nightflower. "What is it?" she demanded. "What did you see? Who's dead?"

"I-I saw a cat… Slipping towards their nest, fur in shadow, and I thought I saw blood on their r-right foreleg," Nightflower murmured. "In the warrior's den."

Spottedstorm came to a halt beside the duo, just in time to hear Nightflower's words. "So it's a warrior!" she exclaimed. "It has to be a warrior. No new warriors can be made and no one can retire. And… the training of the apprentices! Their mentor could kill them if their mentor is the murderer! No cat is safe!"

"ThunderClan, we know something new. A warrior of our clan is the murderer." Flamestar, ignoring Sopttedstorm's protests, announced to the gathering crowd.

Wails of distress broke out as warrior stared at warrior. Nightflower caught sight of Brightmist and Cedarwing pressing together, ears flat as they gazed around at their den mates.

Rosewing pushed her way to the front. "Spottedstorm, if you will let me, I would like to lead a patrol to investigate the various murder scenes to try and figure out which warrior has done this."

Flamestar spoke before her deputy could. "No. I'm sorry, Rosewing, but all warriors must stay in the clearing. Four apprentices and I will do that. Elders shall guard the nursery. Spottedstorm and the rest of the apprentices will hunt for the clan."

An eerie silence broke out as everyone bustled into their places. A few cats darted for the fresh-kill pile, trying to get something to eat before everything had been taken. Nightflower, however, merely padded to the side of the clearing, knowing she didn't deserve food.

…

When Flamestar and her patrol of apprentices returned, their eyes were grim. For once, the bouncy young cats looked subdued, as if what they had found had thoroughly shocked or horrified them.

"Warriors of ThunderClan," Flamestar mewed quietly as the cats gathered around. "It was discovered that the murderer is a she-cat. All toms may return to duties."

The toms rose to their feet and joined Flamestar in silence, casting glances at the she-cats. Cedarwing gently touched noses with Brightmist before joining the others, his eyes dark.

Nightflower followed the other she-cats into a tight circle. They had to stay together.

"Those of you who remain in the middle are to evacuate to the abandoned twoleg nest." Flamestar ordered. "The rest of you will take turns keeping on watch. Which apprentices have she-cat mentors?"

A few apprentices shuffled forwards.

"Spottedstorm will find you temporary mentors when she and her group returns." Flamestar decided. She turned swiftly, beckoning for the tom warriors. "Split yourself into three patrols. Two border patrols and one hunting patrol, understood?"

The warriors did as she ordered, and not long after only she-cats remained in the clearing. Nightflower sat next to Brightmist. "Don't worry," she murmured. "I know you're not the murderer. You're going to get out of this alive."

Brightmist shot her an uneasy glance. "Thanks. But I don't like this."

…

"We found a tuft of fur!" Spottedstorm yowled, bursting into camp. Four days had passed since the fateful day when she-cats had been condemned.

Every cat jumped to their feet, hurrying over.

Spottedstorm dropped something. "In one of the blood patches at Whitesplash's death, we found it. The blood masked the scent and the color, but we washed it in the stream. The scent is lost, but we know the fur color. Or a fur color- they aren't necessarily solid."

Nightflower pushed her way to the front. If this wasn't black, then no cat would figure her out… At least, not until there were barely any of her clan left.

The tuft was black.

The she-cats split instantly into two groups; one was the she-cats with black on their fur, including Nightflower, and the other group included the cats without black on their fur.

Nightflower glanced side to side. She was in a group with only four other she-cats. They were so close to figuring her out, and then…

Then there was still narrowing things down from the five of them. How would that work? Shaking her head, Nightflower gave a weary sigh and settled down to rest.

…

Two days had come and gone since the tuft of fur had been found. Nightflower paced restlessly around camp, under the constant watch of her trusted clan mates, day and night, bored to no ends and wishing fervently that they would figure her out before she killed them all.

"I'm innocent!" Came a sharp, angry yowl.

Nightflower spun around to see Silverfern, a black-striped tabby she-cat, glaring at Lionheart as the golden tabby tom bushed out his fur. "You're not innocent until proven so, and until innocent, you can't leave camp!"

"How do you want me to prove it?"

"There's no way until we catch the murderer in the act!"

"So I'm innocent until proven guilty, you mean?"

"Shut it," Lionheart snarled, turning away. "Or I'll go have Flamestar and Spottedstorm deal with you."

"Actually," Flamestar's smooth, calm voice cut across the air. "We're dealing with the black-furred cats anyways. Right now." She let out the gathering call to clan, bounding up the highledge as the warriors encircled Nightflower and the others.

"ThunderClan, today we end the problem of murder once and for all!" Flamestar yowled. "Today, we kill the five cats who stand as possible murderers and free our clan from these dark days!"

Cheers rang out, a mix of dark and excited voices. Nightflower didn't join in; not only was she to be killed, but so were her innocent clan mates.

"Spottedstorm, will you join me in the honor of slaying the murderer?" Flamestar asked, padded gracefully down the rocks.

The deputy nodded, pushing her way through the crowd until she stood in the circle.

"No!" Nightflower yowled, crashing forwards with wide eyes. She couldn't take this anymore. "I'm the murderer! Kill me, not them!"

Shocked gazes landed on her, and so she continued, "I started murdering in my sleep; I didn't realize it, but when I did, I couldn't control it. I couldn't stop it. So I lay clues to direct you towards me. Find me. Kill me- I didn't have the bravery to turn myself in, but I couldn't stand by and let myself destroy all of ThunderClan."

Flamestar's eyes changed from shock and anger to a calm determination. "Very well, Nightflower. Come here."

Nightflower padded stiffly forwards and crouched. She barely felt the claws raking down her spine and throat, barely felt the pain as she collapsed, barely felt the impending doom as everything went black.

Then everything was gone, and Nightflower knew she was dead.

Rising from the ground, she felt somewhat free as she gazed around her. It was a dim, dark forest, shadowed and heavily smelling of rot and decay. This was where she belonged, was it not? The black-furred she-cat nodded to herself and bounded into the trees, tail streaming behind her.


	14. DarkClan Two Lives (4968 words)

The sun hovered in the middle of the sky, its invisible wings keeping it high above the land below, a golden glow of light in the middle of the set of endless blue waves that lapped against it. A few thin black specks sliced through the air beside the sun, the highlights of a three birds in the midst of their flight. Just like the sun, the birds remained constantly out of reach, only a tiny part of the everlasting blue yonder.

Sometimes, when he had managed to snag a break from his duties, he had gazed up at the pale blue sky and seen those daring birds doing their mesmerizing twists and dips and dives, and he had wondered what it was like to fly so high up that, when you looked down, the land was no more than a blur beneath you.

It was moments like those where he had pondered where the world truly ended and where the line between possible and impossible was drawn. Had he been older, he might not have thought so freely and wished so highly with the experience he would have gained from facing various hardships.

Still, even then, he had always had his curiosity. Even as a kit he would stare around, pestering his mother with his endless questions and learning wherever he could. Despite his quirks, every cat knew he would be smart.

There was always the question, though, of whether a cat with so many ponderable ideas and far-fetched thoughts, could remain loyal in his world of experiments and deductions.

To the point where, sometimes, when he could snatch himself away from sky gazing, he asked himself where his heart truly lay. The best answer that he could come up with without lying was that he didn't know, an answer that neither pleased nor displeased him. Still, he had learned it when such hard-thought answers needed coming about, it was best for him to just leave them be. Later an answer would come to him- it had always worked that way.

With his kit-like curiosity, though, he would venture where he shouldn't and journey farther then he was supposed to. He wanted to know what came after the forest and what came after the thing after the forest and so on until there was nothing more.

If an outsider had looked at him and heard his side of the story, there truly would have been no surprise that he had fallen into the wrong paws. He was so eager to learn and so curious to know about everything he saw and did that it was easy to bribe and persuade him- something of which made him think about where his loyalties lied more then he cared to.

It was no ordinary enemy that swept him away- in fact, it was quite different from a normal enemy. In his dreams he had met shadowy cats who promised to teach him all the things about battle they knew in return for one thing.

One thing that he had never heard. He had agreed, so enthusiastic about becoming smarter, that the other cats had never gotten to tell him what it was he was agreeing to. It was a fact that they accepted most heartily.

And from that moment on, he had begun his life as an apprentice of the Dark Forest. He, himself, was taught by a scarred and battle-hardened tom called Sunheart, an unusually bright name for one who had walked a path of shadows.

Sunheart was a good mentor, yet a viscous one. Each day he had woken up with wounds and bruises and aches from his nights with his mentor, but every day he knew he was not only growing smarter but he was growing stronger. For him, that was worth constantly being tired, and it was more than enough to make him truly feel like he belonged somewhere because of how noticed he felt when he walked in his dreams.

Now the ponderous tom leaned against a tree, his fur carefully groomed to hide his cuts. His flanks heaved rapidly as he caught his breath, one paw held above the ground as if he had twisted it slightly earlier.

"Oakpaw? Oakpaw, where are you, you big lump of fur?" The voice came from a tortoiseshell she-cat as she weaved through the ferns, her dappled pelt ruffled but not matted or tangled.

The tom answered, the fact that his voice sounded like it got little use perhaps the reason why his voice was unnaturally high for a tom of his age, mewing, "Over here, Robinpaw!"

"Where's here?" Robinpaw responded somewhat tartly, her tone making the tom flatten his ears.

"Somewhere where a brown tabby tom with green eyes can apparently stand unnoticed," Oakpaw snapped back. "Also known as I'm beside a tree."

Bursting out of the ferns beside the tree, Robinpaw toppled into the brown tabby tom and the two fell to the ground, one letting out an apologetic mew while the other let out a more frustrated and annoyed one.

Oakpaw's voice rose a note higher as he staggered back to his feet, shaking the dust off his coat. "Really, Robinpaw? _Really?_ I was _thinking_ , for your information, when you just had to crash into me!"

Robinpaw flinched as if his words had stung her and drew herself up to her full height. "Well, fluff-brain, you can keep staring up at the clouds or you can live in the real world! And guess what? In the real world, cats don't cry over getting knocked to the ground!"

"Wow, what a great sister you turned out to be," he shot back, voice suddenly dry with distaste.

"Well, if I'm so bad, then there isn't a word to describe how terrible a brother you are!" Robinpaw exclaimed. Spinning around, she lashed her tail and bounded away.

Oakpaw sighed and turned away.

It wasn't that he was mean; in fact, he was nearly never in a bad mood and normally had a very pleasant temper. But recently he had started to become sharper and fiercer, a factor of which Oakpaw believed was rubbing off on him from the cats he met in the Dark Forest.

Glancing up, Oakpaw let out a frustrated grunt. It was still daytime, which meant he couldn't go to sleep and talk with Sunheart, but the brown tabby couldn't think of anything he had to do for once. Still, he would always welcome a peaceful nap where Sunheart and the other Dark Forest cats couldn't disturb his sleep.

The brown tabby curled up between two of the larger roots of the tree and rested his chin on his paws, determined to get a good rest. For a moment, he stared up at the sky, his eyes fixing on the thin scratches that marked out the far-away birds. The next, he was deep asleep, his flanks rising and falling peacefully.

…

When Oakpaw awoke, it was to his mentor crashing through the trees yowling for him. The tabby was unsure of how to react; he didn't want to get in trouble, but he was just as reluctant to end his nap. The sleep had been good for him, and he felt more rested then he had for nearly two full moons now.

Rising to his feet, the tabby reluctantly let out a small call of 'Here!'

"Oakpaw!" the pale golden tabby exclaimed, stalking into the clearing. Her pelt was bristling and her tail was lashing, and her amber eyes blazed angrily. "What do you think you're doing? Don't you know you were supposed to be on patrol?"

"I do now," he said wistfully, glancing back towards where he had been sleeping. After a moment, he shook himself rapidly, sending scraps of leaves and twigs flying off him.

The pale golden tabby leapt backwards to avoid the shower. "Look, Oakpaw, I'd rather help you become a warrior sooner than later but at this rate no one can help you! Ivystep's kits will become warriors before you do!"

Oakpaw flinched as if he had been dealt a physical blow. "Can't you have some sympathy, Briarwing?"

"If I have any more sympathy, my fur will fall off!" Briarwing hissed. "Besides, what is there to have sympathy about? You're just like any other cat, except, well, dreamier."

"So make allowances!" Oakpaw retorted, before suddenly growing quiet. He didn't know why he was so angry; normally he was shy and passive. His mentor seemed to realize that as well, for she dipped her head.

"Why don't you take the rest of the day off, Oakpaw?" Briarwing stated simply. "I think you could use a break for a little bit. Just, please, bring something back to camp with you for the fresh-kill pile."

Oakpaw rigidly dipped his head. "I'm sure I can do that," he mewed icily.

Inside, his head was spinning. Where was the calm, curious, question-asking brown tabby tom he normally was? Ever since he had joining the Dark Forest, he had felt… different. Stronger and more confident, yes, but, angrier. Angrier and more frustrated.

Some of the littlest things were ticking him off, and it was all very strange, but even if he did make the decision to leave the Place of No Stars, he was stuck there like a fly in a web with no escape. Besides, it surely couldn't be the Dark Forest? They were nice enough to him.

"Shush," he told himself. "Just rest, get some rest, sleep… Get some sleep… All will be fine."

…

It felt like only a heartbeat had gone by when he felt claws clutching at him. Oakpaw shuddered and jumped to his feet, jerking away before spinning around and crouching with claws unsheathed.

Sunheart. Just as he had expected.

The large golden warrior raised one forepaw, his claws reflecting the dim light of the Dark Forest. Oakpaw took a small step backwards and bowed his head, waiting for Sunheart to let out a mew to signal he could rise.

It came quicker than expected, with a quick, short, "Up."

Oakpaw straightened, meeting his mentor's golden gaze evenly. "Greetings," he responded.

Sunheart flicked his tail. "Too many words of peace," he growled. "There's more need for violence. Stop that dillydallying; we have a meeting to go to."

"A _meeting?_ " The brown tabby tom answered, astonished. When had he ever been invited to meetings before?

He raised his head, proud that he had been given the honor of attending a Dark Forest gathering. Then, Oakpaw felt the pride be chilled as he realized this meant they trusted him to be loyal to them more then to his clan mates.

Yes, Oakpaw knew who the Dark Forest really was. They were evil cats plotting revenge, and was on the path to helping them. But Oakpaw's path twisted and curved in ways he couldn't foresee, and so he had always assumed that things would be alright. Besides; the Dark Forest truly trusted him, and he really was stronger than a lot of his clan mates. The Dark Forest had made him a better warrior.

"A meeting of the senior apprentices and their mentors, plus Ashstar and Fernclaw," Sunheart responded evenly. "And me, of course, but I was already coming as your mentor."

Oakpaw nodded slowly, mind racing. Was it more than coincidence that his mentor was one of the leaders of the Dark Forest? Or was it something more? He sure hoped it was nothing more than a pointless event; it wasn't like Oakpaw even knew what it could mean if it was pointed.

Sunheart flashed out a paw, knocking the unexpecting Oakpaw to the ground.

The brown tabby staggered back to his feet, glaring at Sunheart, and spat, "What was that for?" Then Oakpaw rolled his eyes as if he knew the answer. "Never let yourself be caught by surprise. Always be ready."

His mentor nodded before bounding into the forest, the mashed up tangle of wood and leaves. Instantly, Oakpaw followed, stretching his legs with every bound until he was starting to gain on Sunheart.

When they reached the meeting, most of the cats were already there. Sunheart split from Oakpaw with a flick of his tail and headed towards where a dark gray tabby and a tortoiseshell she-cat stood. A few of the other Dark Forest cats had to scuttle out of his way. Everyone dipped their heads respectfully.

Oakpaw shrugged and joined the edge of the crowd where a few other apprentices were gathered. He was the only ThunderClan cat in the group of apprentices he had come up to stand with, but the others were all friendly enough.

Minnowpaw and Troutpaw of RiverClan nodded at him. "How's the training going, Oakpaw?" Troutpaw greeted, his deepening rumble reminding Oakpaw that Troutpaw was not only much bigger then Oakpaw, but he was nearly a warrior in RiverClan as well.

"Good, you?" Oakpaw responded, blinking a greeting at the duo.

"It's just fine," Minnowpaw answered. Her own mew was much lighter than her brother's, and it echoed with a sort of graceful and serene glow. "We'll be having our warrior assessment in a few days."

The brown tabby tom nodded. "Well, best of luck to you two!" He exclaimed before turning to the black-furred ShadowClan she-cat who stood a few mouse-lengths away. "Good day, Pinepaw."

"Good _night_ ," Pinepaw corrected curtly.

Oakpaw hastily reminded himself that she often seemed in a bad temper and after a few minutes she would lighten up to the group.

"Long time no see," Harepaw, the WindClan tom, mewed after a moment.

His clan mate, Gorsestrike, mewed agreement after a moment. "It's nice to see you again, Oakpaw. You think this meeting will end in some of us becoming Dark Forest warriors?"

"Maybe," Oakpaw shrugged.

"Come on," Heatherblaze, the final of the WindClan senior apprentices, urged him. "Sunheart's your mentor. You must know something!"

The brown tabby tom sat sharply. "I promise you, I know nothing," he repeated.

"Let all cats strong enough to kill their enemies gather here beneath us for a clan meeting!" Sunheart yowled.

Immediately, the clearing was silent, and Sunheart blinked approvingly. Then, the golden tom took a step forwards, flicking his tail. Fernclaw and Ashstar joined him and the mighty trio watched the group in silence for a few moments.

Then, at last, Fernclaw made a simple statement. "Today we are to be joined by our first living warriors."

Cheers broke out and Oakpaw cast a surprised glance at Gorsestrike for his well-guessed prediction. "You were right," he whispered.

"It has come to mind that not all our senior apprentices are ready, however," Fernclaw continued, shooting the crowd of apprentices and their mentors a harsh glare. "So three have come along just for the experience of watching."

Oakpaw lowered his head, remembering with a start that they weren't the only senior apprentices there. There were at least eight more, all scattered in different parts of the crowd.

Ashstar was the next to speak, his voice echoing throughout the hollow. "Of WindClan; Heatherblaze, Harepaw, Gorsestrike, Hollowfoot, and Skypaw. Of RiverClan; Minnowpaw, Troutpaw, Blackfish, and Sunshade. Of ShadowClan; Copperpaw, Rosepaw, Thornfang, Pinepaw, Cedarstripe, and Stonefoot. Of ThunderClan; Oakpaw, Grayfire, and Cloudpaw. Step forwards, all of you."

Quickly, like stream running downhill, the named cats flashed to the front. Oakpaw realized with a flash of unease that Ashstar had named every apprentice; he might still be one of the three who wouldn't be made a warrior.

"Most of you are young," Ashstar continued. "But you are strong, and your mentors have made you even stronger. You have been trained and you have fought well because of that. The Dark Forest has shaped you into one of its own. It is time that you join your mentors as proper warriors and begin training new recruits."

Oakpaw glanced at Sunheart, who was sweeping his gaze over the crowd of apprentices. Then, the large golden tom stepped forwards again to speak. "But, we can only have the strongest of warriors. So each of you will fight your mentor. If you can beat your mentor, you will proceed to become a warrior. If you fail… Then your spirit will join us as an apprentice."

Fighting down panic, the brown tabby fixed his eyes on his paws. He had to fight Sunheart, a leader of the Dark Forest, and win! How was he to do that? And would he really go to the Dark Forest when he died? Had he doomed himself to no longer go to StarClan?

But Oakpaw was a good cat, right? Wouldn't he go straight to the stars? Or would they turn him away because of where he spent his nights?

Fernclaw's mew cut into his thoughts. "Apprentices of Ashstar and Sunheart, you shall fight each other."

"And when we tell you to stop fighting, you had better stop fighting!" Ashstar yowled. "Let the trials begin!"

His green gaze darted over the crowd of apprentices as he contemplated who would fight first. "Rosepaw and Copperpaw, you two will fight your mentors first."

Four cats wove to the front of the crowd.

"You will fight your mentor and your mentor only," Ashstar added quickly. "And it all starts now!"

The four cats leapt towards each other, quick as lightning, and the fights began. Oakpaw wasn't sure which fight to watch; all four cats were brilliant fighters, he realized. The Dark Forest had made sure of that.

In the end, both Copperpaw and Rosepaw emerged victorious.

After about six more fights, the first apprentice was killed. Oakpaw dipped his head towards Harepaw as the black-and-white tom's body faded and his spirit arose to pad over to the edge of the clearing. But next was his turn to fight Ashstar's apprentice, Skypaw, and the she-cat was already hissing and spitting ferociously.

"Hello," he greeted simply, dipping his head.

Her response was cold, low, and angry, more like a Dark Forest cat's then a clan cat's, and Oakpaw found himself shrinking away.

"Three, two, one, go!" Ashstar yowled. "Remember, one survivor from this one!"

Skypaw crashed towards him and Oakpaw leapt up to meet her attack, but she used a neat tail flick to change her direction and avoid the collision. She landed sooner than he did, and Skypaw was more than ready when he crashed to the ground to leap for him a second time.

This time, aware of her skills in the air, Oakpaw slid underneath her and bucked up with his hind legs, making contact with her belly.

She landed heavily on her back a few fox-lengths away, and the crowd shuffled to the side to give them room, but there was no need. Skypaw was back on her feet in an instant, flinging herself back at him with a ferocious charge.

Oakpaw's fur was ruffled by her paws as the WindClan cat sped past but he had otherwise managed to dodge the attack.

Spinning around, Oakpaw chased after Skypaw, reaching out to grasp her tail in his jaws. She shrieked and came to halt, flashing back towards him and swiping at his face. One blow connect above his eyes and Oakpaw barely held back a squeak.

He let go and took a step back, trying to think of a plan to defeat Skypaw. She watched him through narrowed eyes, hissing, "That all you've got?"

"No, but it looked like you might need a breather," he shot back. " _Weakling._ "

Skypaw bristled. "No one calls me a weakling and gets away alive!"

"I'm not so sure about that, _weakling_ ," Oakpaw responded, emphasizing weakling a second time in order to spite her. "Weakling isn't exactly a misnomer for you."

The WindClan apprentice leapt, claws unsheathed, and Oakpaw resisted a purr of triumph that everything was working out just fine. He slid to the side, slashed his claws alongside her flank, before dealing two hard blows to the joints in her hind legs, an old trick Sunheart had taught him.

She rolled onto one side and bunched up her legs to protect her belly but the brown tabby tom was more than ready. He reared and used the momentum to dive for Skypaw, and she rolled onto her other side, but he brought his hind legs down on her flank and began a steady slice and rip pattern.

The normally timid and curious Oakpaw had grown into a fierce and deadly tiger, with no kind or passionate thoughts about him. If he won this fight, he would be a warrior in the Dark Forest. If he lost, he would be dead.

Suddenly, Skypaw stopped trying to writhe free. "Go on. Kill me."

Oakpaw turned to stare, gingerly stepping off her as a flash of his old self returned. "What?"

"I said kill me." She repeated.

Skypaw drew in all four paws, directing them all towards his face and sending Oakpaw tumbling away.

Skypaw rolled to her feet and struck a paw down on his throat. "Got any final goodbyes?" she asked.

Oakpaw shook his head, took a deep breath of air, and brought his chin slamming down on her paw. At the same time, it sent her paw pressing into his throat, and Oakpaw hoped she would forget to unsheathe her claws.

But instead of taking advantage of her opportunity, Skypaw pulled her paw out and lunged for him.

The brown tabby apprentice was ready to kill now. He was in this fight, as a tiger, and he was facing her, the leopard.

He would fight, and he would win, because this was a battle he had to win.

"Final words?" he asked, diving for her legs as she reared up.

Successfully knocked off balance, Skypaw propelled all her falling force into Oakpaw, who merely kicked up his hind legs and sent her flying off.

Oakpaw pounded towards the winded apprentice and gripped her throat between his jaws. In only a few moments, it was over, and he stepped back.

Skypaw's body slowly began to fade as Skypaw's spirit rose and padded over to join Harepaw.

"Oakpaw, well done!" Sunheart spoke. "Cats of the Dark Forest, feast your eyes upon our newest warrior, Oakpaw!"

The apprentice-warrior didn't hear his former Dark Forest mentor. All he could hear were his own thoughts, echoing with horror as he tried to calm himself. Why?

He had killed a cat. A living, breathing cat.

 _That's right… Nothing unusual. Cats die every day. Dark Forest cats kill every day. This doesn't mean I'm a murderer._

But no matter how much Oakpaw told himself that, he couldn't shake the feeling that he had done something wrong, so wrong that he couldn't be forgiven despite all the rights he _had_ done in his life.

…

Once the trials were over, the cats who failed were sent away with their mentors and all the dead Dark Forest warriors left, except for Sunheart, Ashstar, Fernclaw, and three others.

"Warriors, your duty now is to train with each other and make each other stronger. When the time comes, you must all know each other and their moves by heart so that, when you pair up with any, and I repeat _any_ , of your fellow Dark Forest warriors, you two will be a perfect fighting pair.

"You are also responsible for training our apprentices. That includes senior apprentices, apprentices who have just joined us, and everything in between. In a few days' time, most of you will be assigned two or three apprentices, as tomorrow will be the recruiting day.

"On the recruiting day, all of you must be present. We will be finding, choosing, and picking as many apprentices, warriors, kits, elders, queens, deputies, and leaders as we can. Our ideal goal is thirty-six new apprentices to divide amongst you all and thirty-six new apprentices for our dead warriors.

"Your current orders are to train and help out with the other training sessions. Tomorrow, in the daylight, you must also look around your clan mates and find as many possible recruits as you can. Get your Dark Forest living clan mates to help you search the whole clan.

"Our last order of business are the stones. Each of you will take, and keep, a little green stone, so that everyone will know you are now warriors. If you do not have a green stone on you, you are not entitled to any warriors privileges and may even be punished, for every cat will need to know your level of authority by the time the final battles come.

"And remember. We will be keeping our eyes on you," Ashstar finished. "That means you may be ranked up and you may be ranked down. Scarlet stones are of the highest ranks. Next come black, then gold, then blue, and, at last, green. Keep this in mind when addressing others."

"Now," Sunheart growled, waving his tail. "Go back to your clans and remember your orders once you've grabbed a green stone."

They fell into a single-file line, all taking their turn to grab one stone and disappear into the bushes.

Oakpaw grabbed his stone and curled up beside a fern, holding the stone carefully in his mouth. If he lost this…

The brown tabby awoke with a start.

…

"Oakpaw! Oakpaw!" Briarwing's call jerked him awake.

It was dark now, Oakpaw realized, and instinctively looked up towards the sky. Through the patches in the leafy canopy he could see patches of the night sky and he shivered, feeling the wind snake through his fur.

"I'm here," he called, getting to his paws.

A little stone fell to the ground as he spoke and Oakpaw dove for it as it rolled to the side. He couldn't afford to lose it.

Briarwing burst out of the bushes, panting. "There you are! I was wondering if you were still here or not. Come on, we'd best get back to camp."

Oakpaw shrugged and straightened, rolling the stone from side to side with one paw. "Yeah, yeah, yeah…"

"And would you like to explain what that stone is?" Briarwing added, giving the stone a suspicious look.

"Just something," Oakpaw responded quietly, picking it up and carrying the stone

…

"Good morning!" Briarwing called from outside the apprentice den.

Oakpaw blinked sleepily, surprised to hear it was morning already, but not protesting.

Instead, the apprentice rose to his feet and gave himself a quick grooming, smoothing his ruffled fur and teasing through any tangles. He took extra care to brush fur over his scratches from the Dark Forest- if any caught on, he'd be in big trouble. Lastly, he picked up the stone and tucked it carefully in the side of his mouth like a chipmunk.

"What are we doing today?" he asked.

"An assessment," his mentor responded, seemingly full of enthusiasm and cheerfulness. "On your fighting skills. With Robinpaw and the senior apprentices, Leafpaw, Poppypaw, and Badgerpaw."

Oakpaw let out a rusty purr and stretched quickly. He knew this was an assessment he would pass easily, for despite the older age of the senior apprentices and their longer training he had the advantage of Dark Forest training. Briarwing seemed to sense his confidence for she let her tail trail over his shoulders for a moment.

"Don't get too cocky," she mewed, her eyes darkening into a more serious-looking manner. "These apprentices are a few moons older then you and they've had a lot more training. It's almost certain they'll beat you."

Rolling his eyes, the brown tabby tom pushed past his mentor and bounded towards the camp entrance. "We're going to meet at the grassy clearing, right?"

At her nod of confirmation he broke into the forest, weaving through the trees and sticking to the shadows. Even with his brown pelt Oakpaw was nothing less than perfectly hidden, supposedly an extraordinary feat to any cat who hadn't walked in the Place of No Stars. There was no doubt- not only had he learned to fight, but he had learned to be dark and to be stealthy.

He didn't have his kitten faults anymore. No, Oakpaw was a fully-fledged cat. If he was older, he might have been having his warrior assessment right now.

 _Just keep going forwards,_ he told himself. _Don't pause. Stop daydreaming, that's what Sunheart would say._

Yet as he swerved around a corner something must have clicked in his head as he skidded to a halt. He had changed so much. Where was that dreamy, daydreaming apprentice who was extremely curious? What had happened to him?

When he looked in a puddle he saw only a strong, well-muscled brown tabby tom, fierce and cold and relentless. He argued diligently now, stubborn and a fight-picker. And Oakpaw didn't know if he liked this new self, but Sunheart had been right. He had learned, and he had learned a lot, too.

 _So nothing's wrong. Keep going on._

 _No. I'm different._

Oakpaw hesitated before letting the stone drop from his mouth. He rolled it under one paw, thinking fast. That was another change- he was more decisive and less ponderous.

"I don't need you, Sunheart. I don't need you Dark Forest." Oakpaw tried to say, making himself stand straighter.

Then he ducked and grabbed the stone again. "I'm physically strong," he whispered. "But my mental strength is weaker than ever."

Oakpaw bounded onwards, tail down and head down as he flew through the trees. Maybe he wouldn't ever give up the Dark Forest, but at least he was learning and now he could defend his clan better than ever. Hadn't everything worked out in the end? He had passed his assessment, he was a Dark Forest warrior, he made a fair opponent for practically every cat, and he was on the verge of ranking up. It was better just to keep on going.

 _Just don't look back._


	15. DarkClan ADay InA Rouge's Life (3,204wd)

The clear was packed with cats, some small and some large. A tortoiseshell she-cat sat next to a gray tabby tom, whiskers twitching, while a ginger-and-white cat was grouped with two brown tabby cats, one broad-shouldered and one thin-framed.

Four cats were perched in a great tree, eyes gleaming as they exchanged polite words with each other. A black-furred tom had taken up a spot on a top branch, amber eyes darting from the clearing to the cats in the tree again. His tail twitched from side to side and his claws were sunk deep into the branch, yet his face refused to show what emotions he was feeling that dark night.

A pale golden-brown she-cat sat tall on a larger branch. Her green eyes were dark and shadowed but her frame was strong and sturdy. Still, despite her confident pose it was clear she was small and lithe, and she looked more like a piece of fresh-kill then a cat compared to the large, broad-shouldered cat next to her.

His pelt was a deep, dark gray, and his paws were large. Everything about him seemed big and powerful, even his long, whipping tail that _whooshed_ from side to side. He had eyes that were an identical ice blue and his whiskers were stiff as he cast his gaze around the clearing, capturing every little detail.

The final cat of the four was on the lowest branch on the tree, amber eyes trailing over a group of thin-framed and small cats like the golden-brown female. This cat had a pelt of dark russet, his white paws hidden beneath his body.

He stood up sharply, letting out a frosty call. "May all cats gather around the great tree! The moon has rose and it is time to gather!"

The rows of cats all turned to face the tree, falling into silence.

"I will be speaking first," the tom added.

None of the others protested, instead resorting to sending him irritated glances. It was clear that no one else had been a part of this decision yet they didn't care enough to interrupt.

Sending a sharp glare towards the skinny cats, the russet tom let out an angry yowl. "WindClan have been stealing our prey!"

The WindClan cats jumped to their feet, hissing wildly. The golden-brown she-cat did as well, her tail lashing furiously. "What leads you to think my clan of honorable warriors _stole_ your stupid fish and mice? Go on, admit it, Foxstar. You've no evidence to back up this assumption, do you?"

Foxstar bristled, jerking his head to give the she-cat an even stare. "Goldenstar, if you're going to say your clan is honorable, I imagine you're also going to insist they don't give out personal information about their clans?"

The leader hesitated for only a sheer moment, but it was enough to send the ThunderClan warriors below into murmurs of dismay as if they were worried that WindClan would kill their prey as well.

Instead of responding to Foxstar, Goldenstar swept her green eyes across the group of WindClan warriors. "Which one of you is responsible for this?" she hissed.

A white-furred she-cat, her long fur sleek and shiny, reared up on her hind legs. "I know who it is, Foxstar! And Goldenstar… I was the one who was told everything!"

Goldenstar narrowed her eyes and looked directly at the other she-cat. "You are Snowpaw of RiverClan, correct?"

Snowpaw gave a quick nod. "And it was Wrenpaw who said it all!"

The cats scattered, all except for one young, small she-cat who crouched, staring at her paws, in the middle of the circle. Her fur was soft and her tail was long, and she skinny like her leader. She was coated with pale brown and flecked with a pawful of darker shades. Her golden eyes, round like the moon, were somewhat hollow with guilt.

"I'm sorry," she choked out.

There was a stony silence before Goldenstar answered. "Springheart, do you mind taking Wrenpaw home? We will deal with her later after we have finished the Gathering."

A tortoiseshell she-cat nodded, green eyes flashing as she gazed at Goldenstar. They seemed to pass a silent message between the two of them before Springheart turned, beckoned to Wrenpaw, and trotted towards a line of ferns.

…

"What in StarClan's name did you think you were doing?" Goldenstar thundered, eyes blazing.

Wrenpaw shuffled her feet, ears flat and eyes wide and miserable. "I-I thought she would keep it a secret. I really didn't know she would tattle!"

Her leader's eyes softened for only a moment. "Tattle? Snowpaw was being a loyal apprentice, unlike you! Hazelwing, Springheart, what do you suggest for her punishment?"

The lithe brown tabby she-cat and the tortoiseshell she-cat shared a glance. "I believe," Hazelwing mewed slowly, rising to her feet. "That, though Wrenpaw does not appear to have intended such a deep… betrayal… she should still be punished properly so that she won't make such a mistake again."

"I don't think Wrenpaw meant for her actions to cause such a bad outcome at all," Springheart responded. "Wrenpaw honestly didn't know any better, which technically means it is her mentor's fault."

Goldenstar stiffened. "Rabbitleap may not have taught Wrenpaw not to speak up but she should have some common sense!" The golden-brown leader swept her fiery gaze over the trio before she let out an authoritive mew.

"Wrenpaw shall be banned from WindClan for a quarter-moon."

The apprentice's jaw dropped but she closed it quickly, instead giving a small nod as a sign of acceptance. The rows of somewhat-shocked warriors spilt, forming a path towards the camp entrance that the pale brown she-cat padded through. She was hunched over despite being mid-motion as if she could sense her clan mates' gazes digging into her back like claws.

At the end of the path she glanced back, pausing, her golden eyes round now and shadowed with anxiety and doubt. Then she sucked in a small breath, turned, and plunged out of camp.

Silence fell over the WindClan camp.

…

She arched her back and stretched out her legs, trying to recall everything her mentor had taught her. It was probably against her better judgement but Wrenpaw was trying to run as far away from her clan as she could. Whether the reason behind it was shame or anger she didn't know.

Her pale brown shape was a flash as she darted across the open fields and hills. Wrenpaw's mouth and throat was dry but she hadn't spotted any water since she had left the territory- she had no choice but to keep on going.

Wrenpaw was hungry, too. She hadn't eaten since the evening before they had left for the gathering, nearly a full day ago now. The apprentice would have to stop and attempt to hunt soon.

As she skidded past an outcrop of rocks and slowed down, Wrenpaw paced back and forth, flanks heaving, as she tried to catch her breath. She slipped into the shade the stones provided, glad for a chance to hide from the unrelenting sun at last.

Glancing back towards where she had come from, Wrenpaw realized she could barely recognize her own path. If she hadn't seen so earlier, she might have stranded herself hours away from her clan in the middle of unfamiliar territory. Even getting lost in ShadowClan land would be better than that.

The sound of water trickling down a slope caught her attention. Wrenpaw turned and padded forwards a few paces, her gaze landing on a small stream that wove between two rocks.

Relieved, she bent forwards and lapped up a mouthful, letting its cold touch revive her from the inside.

"I'll stay for the rest of the day here," Wrenpaw decided. "I'll hunt and find something to sleep on."

…

Hunting hadn't been very easy. Even though the crook provided a drink for animals the area didn't seem to be very populated. The only thing she had found any trace of was mouse, and luckily enough for Wrenpaw she had caught the rodent before it could get away.

Now she was eating her catch in the shade of the rocks, one eye on the horizon as it neared sunset. She still had to get herself some sort of nest- anything would be better than just the ground.

Straightening, Wrenpaw licked one forepaw and drew it over her whiskers, smoothing them.

 _Right… Bedding. What can I use around here?_ She glanced from side to side, sniffing the air. She didn't see much else other than rolling grasslands. Maybe she could gather grass and sleep on that?

Whatever she was going to do, she would have to be quick.

Wrenpaw padded over to a clump of grass and grabbed the stalks in her jaws. After a final moment of thought she reared onto her hind legs, tearing out the grass in the process. Then she brought the clump over to a more protected spot beside the rocks and spread it out so that she had a place to sleep.

She repeated the steps with a few more bundles of grass. When she was finished, she sat back on her haunches, surveying her work. It felt more like home already. At least, like a home she was willing to live in for a quarter-moon.

…

Morning light spilled over the empty plains, dappling the grasses and the rocks with a soft, golden glow. The sun tinted Wrenpaw's fur a golden-brown color; she had chosen the sunrise side of the rocks to sleep. At night she would be cast in shadow.

The pale brown she-cat cracked open one eye to find herself staring into the sun. She snapped it shut, rolled onto her other flank, and opened both eyes this time to see the rock.

"Okay," Wrenpaw mewed to herself, managing a loud yawn before propping herself up with her forepaws. "Time to get hunting. Rabbits, mice, anything, really…"

She gave herself a quick grooming and glanced around. There were a few scattered bushes and thickets of heather and gorse in one direction; she must have come from the other as Wrenpaw couldn't remember seeing any plant life during her travels.

Wrenpaw sniffed the air, bristling as she caught a trace of mouse. _Hopefully it's still nearby._

The apprentice dropped into a crouch, tracking the scent back towards one of the nearer gorse thickets. She stopped a fox-length away, eyes narrowed as she tried to find the mouse through the branches.

It was then that the apprentice realized the smell also carried an unusual trace- the one of death.

She stiffened and started backing up, eyes wide.

"Well detected, young one," a soft, feminine voice mewed.

Wrenpaw spun around.

In front of her was a gray-brown she-cat with long, silky-looking fur. Her pelt was slightly mottled and overall she blended in terrifically with the moor's fields and grasses. Lastly she had green eyes that were only a shade paler then the grass.

"Who are you?" Wrenpaw asked, immediately ashamed at how her voice squeaked.

"I am Wren," she answered.

Wrenpaw stiffened. "But my name is Wren! Well, Wrenpaw, but still!"

Wren squinted at her, as if musing this coincidence. "Well, just call me Olive, then. That's my sister's name."

"Olive?" Wrenpaw mewed blankly. "That's, uh- sorry- a strange name."

"Oh, not really. At least, not when you know what an olive is," Wren-Olive mewed, looking a little distant for a moment. "Anyways, I was wondering what you're doing out here, Little Wren? I am the only one who lives here."

Wrenpaw shuffled her feet. Stupid, stupid, stupid! She should have checked for other cats before she settled here!

"I come from WindClan," she mewed quietly after a moment. "My clan has banished me for a quarter moon."

Olive blinked. "Banished? Did you do something?"

Lowering her gaze, Wrenpaw stared at her paws. "I kind of gave out some clan secrets at a gathering."

"I won't ask what a gathering is," Olive mewed slowly, watching her. "Nor will I pressure you into saying anything else. But if you need anything, feel free to track my scent trail back to my den. And you're welcome to have the mouse in the gorse, I don't need and you've chosen one of the more barren places around here."

Wrenpaw shifted her weight from side to the other. "Th-thanks," she stuttered. "A lot. Thanks a lot."

"Anytime," Olive mewed, before turning and bounding away.

The apprentice let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding. That had went well enough and now she had a free meal.

Padding quietly towards the gorse she still couldn't shake herself free of suspicion, though, and as Wrenpaw picked at the mouse she kept wondering why Olive had trusted her and had done her actions so... Quickly.

 _I've got to pay her a visit sometime and ask,_ she decided, finishing her meal with a gulp.

…

On the morning of the third day of her banishment Wrenpaw ran into Olive again. This time they both were chasing the same rabbit. They ended up sharing, neither wanting to deny nor accept that they were both responsible for the catch.

When her stomach was full, Wrenpaw glanced up.

"Do you mind if I ask a question, Olive?" she asked quietly. _Now's my chance! Please…_

The gray-brown she-cat glanced at her, eyes gleaming as she calculated something. "I suppose not, why do you ask? Or maybe I should say what do you want to ask?

"Oh, well, I'm just wondering how a cat be so… I don't know, easy-going? You trusted me really quickly and I'm a complete stranger," Wrenpaw mewed carefully.

Olive laughed. "Well, you don't want to get on WindClan's bad side by letting one of their apprentices starve!"

"I wasn't-" Wrenpaw took a deep breath and sighed. "Is that true?"

"Partly," her companion shrugged. "I don't want to get mauled by a giant group of cats. The other reason…"

The two fell into silence and Wrenpaw, her mind buzzing with questions, didn't protest when Olive rose to her feet and padded away.

…

"You know," Wrenpaw mewed, flicking her tail from side to side. "When I get back to WindClan I'll have loads of stories to tell. Of how I met you, for instance."

Olive twitched. "What's WindClan like?"

"What's living all alone like?" Wrenpaw answered.

The she-cat rolled her eyes. "You know, Wrenpaw!" she mewed. "Don't tell me you forgot your first day already!"

Wrenpaw shuddered. "No way! I spent the whole day trying to get away from my clan, and all I want to do is return now!"

Olive frowned.

"No, no, no, nothing's wrong with you," Wrenpaw continued, rambling a little, "It's just I miss everyone and all!"

"So you care a lot about them but you give away their secrets?" Olive mewed wryly. "Wow, love at first sight."

Then she let out a mew of laughter to show it was a light-hearted remark before prodding Wrenpaw gently. "Go on. What's WindClan like?"

Wrenpaw hesitated. "It's… awesome."

"And?" Olive leaned forwards, her eyes round like a kit's even though the she-cat was fully grown.

"And I'd like to ask you another question, that's what," Wrenpaw finished.

Now Olive leaned back on her haunches, lifting up one forepaw. "Fire away. I've got nothing to hide."

"Why are you so friendly to me? Why trust me so quickly? What was the second reason?" Wrenpaw burst out.

 _Great StarClan, Wrenpaw. Woo. Terribly done._

The apprentice flattened her ears and glanced at her paws nervously.

Olive was silent. "I have reasons," she mewed at last, before standing up and padding away.

"But Olive! Why do you treat me like your friend?" Wrenpaw yowled after her.

The gray-brown she-cat paused and turned. "Maybe I'm lonely," was all she said before continuing on her steady gait away.

…

The next two days passed quickly, and on the seventh day Wrenpaw finally went to the effort of tracking down Olive's den.

"Good morning!" she called sweetly.

She'd done everything she could possibly have done in the past two days and Wrenpaw was hoping to at last receive the other answer to her question.

Olive stirred slightly from inside her den.

"I brought you a rabbit!" she called.

Wrenpaw waited several minutes but the gray-brown she-cat didn't appear. The apprentice decided that instead of invading the rogue's privacy she would leave and return later.

She hesitated at the ridge before sighing and trekking back towards the rocks where her own nest was.

The following hour she felt tense and dreadful.

Part of Wrenpaw wanted to blame it on something she had eaten but the other part of her felt it was something she had sensed without realizing it. Either way she was falling into a most miserable mood.

So the pale brown she-cat sighed and heaved herself to her paws, beginning the journey back towards Olive's den. There was no use in moping around all day and she still wanted- no, needed- an answer to her question.

 _Why?_

As soon as she neared Olive's den Wrenpaw could pick up a terrible yet familiar stench but it took her several heartbeats to recognize it- fox. It took her another precious heartbeat to register the sound of furious but pained yowled from Olive alongside tiny squeaks.

Wrenpaw charged down the ridge and thrust her way into Olive's den, leaping on the russet back of the fox.

Out of the corner of her eye she could see Olive scrambling away from the massive beast and checking on five tiny little shapes, all look-alikes of the brown-gray she-cat in one way or another.

 _Does Olive have kits?_

Sinking her claws into the fox, Wrenpaw let out a fierce yowl and began churning the fox's back with her hind paws. _Away from these kits! Away!_

The apprentice was promptly shaken off and sent flying into the bramble wall where she laid, drifting into unconsciousness, as the fox turned and began striking her pelt.

…

Wrenpaw blinked once.

Then the apprentice blinked twice, surprised to find herself aching all over.

The she-cat blinked a third time, scrambling to her paws as her memories returned.

The fox was gone but Olive curled up limply on the floor, her five kits scurrying desperately around her.

As Wrenpaw neared Olive blinked herself, her eyes slowly training on Wrenpaw. "You had a question?" she gasped.

Slowly the apprentice nodded.

"Mothering instinct kicks in when you've got young kits," Olive answered at last, smiling weakly. "Now, do me a favor and bring my kits back to WindClan with you. I'm not going to make it through this."

Wrenpaw bushed her fur out, frozen in shock.

"You sound healthy enough! You look good enough! Don't talk, save your strength! You're not going to die!" The apprentice exclaimed.

Olive shook her head. "Just take my kits with you and if I do manage to live through this then one day I will return and join them in your clan."

"Olive!"

"Go now while you can still make it home before the sun sets."

"But-"

"Just go, Little Wren."

With that, Wrenpaw grabbed the scruff of the nearest kit and fled.


	16. DarkClan Control (733 words)

Today is the day.

I have worked hard for this moment. I have prepared day after day. I have trained constantly.

And now my reward is in sight. I have nearly claimed my prize.

The ranks of my allies, all of whom I have trained into powerful killing machines, are lined beside me. We cover a vast expanse of area in just the first line- I still have a few slightly smaller rows placed behind me.

The grassy field ahead of us is calm and quiet now, dotted with the occasional greenleaf butterfly, but I know- and so do my warriors- that soon it will become a screeching battlefield, the grass soaked blood, the plains a heaving mass of cat and claw.

At my signal these cats will swarm down behind me. We will charge down the hill like a storm and we will attack as hard as we can.

Most of all, we will win.

I will soon have an extreme amount of power… complete control and leadership over all four clans plus my allies. At least a hundred of cats will be under my command.

I am not afraid to say that my enemies are brave and strong, just like my cats. But though they have courage, it is stupid courage. They have short strength and no endurance. More than anything, they completely lack the skill to fight us and win.

Once I am leader I will train them into responsible fighting recruits. I will have flanks of soldiers made into perfect fighters, following my rules instead of the warrior code.

I once started out as a tiny, innocent kit. I hoped I might even be medicine cat one day, healing my former clan mates instead of trying to kill them. But our medicine cat received a vision and denied me apprenticeship to him.

He has long since died for his crime but today is the day where I will get my revenge on Lightningstar for banishing me.

I would have been the best warrior ever if they hadn't listen to that vision so much. But then the rumors started up and then I started killing out of anger and hate. I no longer wanted to be medicine cat but leader instead.

But an apprentice died and I was blamed. Lightningstar banished me, telling me I was lucky that I wasn't getting executed.

I didn't know there was a difference. I felt like I was dead for a few days and then I rose up stronger than ever. I gathered followers and trained and prepared and planned and now I am taking over then clans.

Now I will be the leader at last and no one will dare undermine me.

I hadn't been responsible for the apprentice's death and I had been blamed anyways all those moons ago. Now Lightningstar and the other leaders will lead their cats into battle and tons of their weak little 'warriors' will die and they don't have a scapegoat to use to hide from the truth.

The only ones who can be blame are themselves. Still, I'm sure they'll find a way to frame me. Poor, innocent, 'evil and no-good' me.

They never even stopped to consider that I might be the best leader ever. I won't let cats break the rules, for starters, and everyone will be talented fighters. The people who deserve rewards will get rewards and everything will fair- much fairer then anything the clans have ever been.

I know the way forwards is a rocky and bumpy path but I am determined to follow it. All I have to remember is that it is finally my turn to be in control.

Control.

The leader and the ruler and the emperor of everything the clans have ever known.

Scarletstar.

I like that name. It won't be stupid old Scarletclaw anymore or Scarletpaw or Scarletkit. I will be Scarletstar, leader of ScarletClan, the best leader ever to exist!

And all that stands between me and my glorious future is this final battle for control.

Good old control.

Scarletstar the Controller. That's another good thing. And as leader my subjects will have no choice but to call me whatever I wish.

And if I lose this battle?

I still have no worries. The odds of defeat are unlikely and even then I will easily think of a new plan.

I, Scarletstar, am completely unstoppable.


	17. DarkClan Holidays (905 words)

"Mama! Mama, they are so loud!" Bounce squealed, fluffing up his black coat and flattening his ears.

Mama had warned then yesterday to be cautious today but he hadn't expected this… this thundering collage of twoleg mews.

Ever since the other twolegcubs had arrived he'd been grabbed at and pulled and pushed and chased all over the nest and he hadn't gotten a wink of sleep. His sister had endured the same torture.

Mama leaned forwards and gave him a gentle lick on the forehead and Bounce didn't pull away, about to collapse in exhaustion.

"Every four seasons each twoleg kit is celebrated, kind of like the clan ceremonies," she mewed, her voice calm and soothing. "But they only get one day and tomorrow everything will be normal again."

Bounce quivered. "The clans?" _Who cares about tomorrow? I want to hear about the clans- today!_

"Yes, the clans," she responded, green eyes gleaming. Her blue-gray pelt was streaked with darker splotches and neatly groomed, her whiskers straight and regal form standing tall.

Bounce stared up at her. She was so… different. Mature. _Has she ever been to the clans?_

"Have you ever-"

"No, I haven't," Mama answered. "I've stayed well away from the forest ever since my mother told me about the clans."

The black-furred tom kit bristled. "But why, mama? What's so bad?"

Mama swooped in close to him, her eyes darkening. "The clan cats are evil and ruthless. They fight just for the fun of it and they are constantly soaked with blood. They eat little kits who stray across their paths and they grow to the size of badgers when they're angry."

" _Never_ mess with clan cats. They are dangerous and would kill you at the first look- you're nothing more than a scrap," she finished, leaning backwards.

Bounce lowered his head as realized he was shuddering nervously like a kit.

 _I am a kit, though!_

"Have you ever met a clan cat, though?" he persisted.

Mama's eyes widened. "No I haven't, for star's sake! Didn't you hear what I just said? If I had met a clan cat I would be dead right now! No, your father was the only cat who was daring and brave enough to see a clan cat."

"Papa?" Bounce exclaimed.

 _You've never told us about Papa._

The little kit straightened. "What's Papa like?"

Mama shifted away from him. "Bounce, your papa doesn't matter right now. Now, let's go get a drink of water from the kitchen and then find some nice little spot where you and your sister can hide from the twolegkits for a while."

Bounce nodded quietly, disappointed.

Then the little black-furred kit widened his eyes and glanced from side to side. "Mama? W-where's Star?"

"Star!" Mama stiffened and sniffed the air. "Star, where are you?"

She wasn't on the couch like they were. She wasn't in the living room. And she wasn't in the kitchen or by the front door.

Bounce wriggled forwards and tumbled somewhat clumsily off the couch. "Star? Star!" he squeaked.

He pricked his ears as he detected a faint, high-pitched squeal.

"Star?"

"Bounce!"

"Star!"

"Bounce!"

Bounce swiveled his ears, stumbling slightly as Mama leapt down beside him and started charging towards the hall where the stairs were.

He followed her as fast as he could on his tiny kit legs, teetering from side to side as he rolled along.

Mama skidded to a halt in front of the closet door and pressed her muzzle and ear to it. "Star? Are you in there, dear?"

"Mama! The twolegkits put me in here and closed the door!" Star wailed.

Mama let out a horrified gasp. "How dare they!"

Lashing her tail, Mama spun around and let out a loud, demanding yowl.

Bounce prodded the door with one paw, causing a little scuffling noise.

Star's white forepaw flashed out from under the door, reaching for his, and Bounce leapt away. "Ye-ow!"

Then he spun back around and dove for Star's foot, tail twitching happily despite the situation.

"Kits," Mama scolded. "Not now. We need to get Star out of there."

"But-"

"No buts," Mama chided.

Bounce nodded and hung his head, trying to sit calmly but unable to stay still. With a playful squeal he lunged for the door again.

Mama grabbed his scruff and pulled him away. "Bounce," she mewed, sounding strained. "Please be quiet and stay out of the way."

A long line of twolegkits began dashing down the hall, their hind paws pounding against the floor and causing a most thunderous noise.

"Mama!" Bounce squeaked, scrabbling away from the twolegkits. "Mama, they're going to chase me!"

The female twoleg of the house let out an angry shout. She was waving her hands and shepherding the twolegkits down the hall.

'Now where did you put Star?' The twoleg asked, her voice strangely gruff.

One of the twolegkits pointed towards the closet. 'We were playing hide and seek with her. We were going to take turns hiding her and then finding her.'

The twoleg jerked open the door and Star tumbled out, her pelt all bristly. She took one look at the twolegkits and hared, tail between her legs, around the corner.

Bounce skidded after her, ears flat.

Mama followed them more slowly, trying to look regal though Bounce knew she wanted to groom Star thoroughly and make sure she was okay sooner than later.

 _And this happens every four seasons._


	18. DarkClan RainOSCSilverFrost (9,867 wd)

**Silver Frost:**

 _"_ _Once upon a time, there was a snowy, frost world. It was a world covered completely in white, trapped in an endless leaf-bare. The towering, pillaring mountains stretched high into the sky, farther up then even where the eagles flew._

 _"Here, in this world, everything was blanketed with snow and sleet and hail. Everything was dusted with white. And in this chilly, frosty world of Silver Frost was a clan of strong, skilled cats, immune to the cold and gifted with long, thick pelts of whites and grays._

 _"The Clan of Silver Frost was their name, in honor of the cold, snowy land they lived in. They made their camp in a cave that served as the den for everyone; queens, kits, and elders slept in the middle, followed by the medicine cat and the leader, and then came the senior warriors. Lastly were the apprentices and the youngest warriors, scattered at the very edges of the cave._

 _"These cats were tactful hunters; they were so used to the snow and cold that they didn't even notice it, these cats, and they were built with strong, sturdy frames to protect them from whirling mountain winds. They could run on the snow without leaving a single paw print, a single disturbance behind. The mountain was their territory, and they loved it._

 _"One day something other than their normal routine came to be. A patrol that had been sent to explore the territory outside their land a little bit better stumbled upon a tree. Now, most of the Clan didn't even know what trees were; their territory was so bare and cold that only endothermic creatures could survive and trees and other forms of nature didn't grow. But there was that tree, on this lower part of the mountain, standing higher than they thought was possible._

 _"The branches spilled out from the spiny brown trunk, thick and sturdy. And twigs sprouted from the branches, thin and wiry, carrying bountiful green leaves. The green and brown colors were so new and so different to them that, all in all, they raced back towards their camp._

 _"Their leader, Snowstar, was startled when she heard the news. She was one of the cats who was gifted with the knowledge of trees but she had never expected to see one or find one. She had thought they were nothing more than a fairy tale._

 _"Snowstar led a patrol to investigate. Among that patrol was one of the elders, Stormcloud, who knew more about trees then she did, and a young warrior named Blizzardstrike. Blizzardstrike was a strong, young tom who was very bold and adventurous and he loved the idea of a new sort of life on the mountain._

 _"Blizzardstrike ran on ahead as the winds started picking up, winds that swept away Snowstar's voice when she tried to call him back. Determined not to lose the young warrior, Snowstar sent Stormcloud home before haring after her warrior._

 _"She found him already at the tree, flashing up it like one of our squirrels. His white pelt contrasted greatly against the green and brown, causing him to stand out like black crow feathers on white snow. Immensely._

 _"Snowstar let out a yowl and attempted to go after him. From her angle of vision on the ground she could see that the tree was beginning to shake dangerously in the winds and she knew she had to stop her warrior before he got too high, where the wind was strongest._

 _"'Blizzardstrike!' she yowled to him. 'Blizzardstrike, come back here!' Yet he showed no sign of hearing her, instead continuing to dart up the tree._

 _"He reached the top and promptly lost his footing on the tree, the wind sweeping his body into a chasm well he was free-falling. Snowstar, horrified, backed down the tree and turned tail for home, making it in the clan's code to never climb a tree._

 _"And that is Blizzardstrike's story, kittens, and his lesson."_

 _A little dark brown tortoiseshell tabby she-cat with a bobbed tail widened her amber eyes, staring up at the short-furred brown tom in front of her who had told her the story. Her tail twitched anxiously and for a moment she leaned briefly against the long-furred pale gray-and-white tabby tom who sat beside her._

 _"Are we allowed to climb trees?" she whispered, fur fluffing slightly._

 _The brown tom purred in amusement, stretching down to nuzzle her affectionately. "Yes, little one. The winds don't blow so strongly here. As long as you are taught properly climbing trees is perfectly safe. Your father will teach you how to climb and so will your mentor."_

 _The other kit beside her heaved a sigh of relief, identical to the relieved tone in the kit's voice as she brightened, mewing, "And you're our father's father, right, Oakfoot?"_

 _"Right, Sparrowkit," Oakfoot purred. Rising to his feet he gently nudged the two kits with one forepaw. "Now go on and play with your friends; you shouldn't be spending all your time talking to an old-timer like me."_

 _The pale gray-and-white tabby tom fluffed up his fur. "Are you old, Oakfoot? I thought you were just a warrior, not an elder!" he sounded slightly panicked as he sprang upwards, huddling at his feet._

 _Oakfoot blinked affectionately, giving him a quick lick on his head. "No, not really. I am just a warrior, it's true, Icekit. But my parents were elders and soon enough I'll be an elder too. Now go!" he straightened, his tone lightening as he playfully chased the two away._

 _Sparrowkit leapt to her feet, squeaking happily, as she darted away, diving for the shadows as she silently raced Icekit towards the nursery._

…

Sparrowkit lunged for her golden-furred friend. The short-furred she-kit scraped one white paw along Sparrowkit's side in a playful retaliation, her darker stripes that ran down her tail and legs nearly double with dust marks from wrestling on the ground.

Her friend's somewhat dark golden eyes met hers and Sparrowkit jumped away, circling around her swiftly.

"Can't catch me, Sparrowkit!" she yowled, hopping to her feet and haring away.

Sparrowkit narrowed eyes and pounded after the golden she-kit as she wove through the camp, calling, "I'm going to get you, Lightningkit!" at her friend.

As she started to gain on Lightningkit the tortoiseshell tabby let out a satisfied yowled, pouncing forwards and gently play-nipping Lightningkit's long tail.

Her friend skidded to a halt, spun around, and batted at her whiskers. "No-tail!" she teased playfully.

Sparrowkit used one forepaw to prod Lightningkit's chest. "Long-tail!" she answered, voice equally playful and without scorn or shame for her own bobbed tail, which was unlike everyone else's tail.

The two leapt for each other, forearms locking as they fell to the ground, tussling happily.

"Got you!" Lightningkit declared, gently grabbing Sparrowkit's scruff.

Sparrowkit dramatically collapsed. "Fine, fine," she responded, before raising her voice to a high, insistent pitch. "Please have mercy, Lightningstrike the fierce! Don't kill me!"

Lightningkit's golden eyes sparked and she, too, joined in the act, lowering her voice to a deep, grown-up sounding tone. "The warrior code says you do not need to kill to win a battle, young apprentice. No warrior of my noble clan shall kill you this day."

With that, she stepped back, somewhat roughly releasing her grip on Sparrowkit's scruff and leaving the tortoiseshell tabby to scamper to her paws, cower for a moment playfully, before slowly backing away.

"You got lucky this time!" Sparrowkit called, glancing back. Her amber gaze fixed on Lightningkit, suddenly widening as she noticed something.

Lightningkit spun around only to be knocked to the ground by Icekit, who sailed neatly out on the bushes and knocked the golden she-kit over. "Got you," he smirked, pinning her. "And guess what? ShadowClan warriors don't follow the code, so I'm going to kill you!"

Sparrowkit purred happily as she slipped forwards. "But Icestorm, please! She had mercy on me, shouldn't we give her mercy, too?"

"She is a weak ThunderClan cat," Icekit growled, puffing up his chest. "But, being as ThunderClan is the best clan ever, we've got to let her go."

Icekit stepped back, letting Lightningkit scramble to her paws. She glared at Icekit. "That's the only time you'll be able to take me down, Icestorm," she hissed, but her eyes were twinkling.

"I'll prove you wrong soon," Icekit responded. He spoke normally this time, signaling the game was over.

"Anyways," he continued, ruffling his pelt and shaking the dust out. "Mother wants to see us, Sparrowkit. You too, Lightningkit, along with your mother."

Sparrowkit blinked. Lightningkit just nodded and barged forwards, trotting towards the nursery.

Icekit beckoned for Sparrowkit to join them and followed.

...

"Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather beneath the highledge for a clan meeting!" Amberstar yowled.

Sparrowkit quivered in excitement.

Today was the day she would be apprentice, and also the day her brother would be apprenticed, and also the day Lightningkit would be apprenticed.

Sparrowkit blinked warmly at her friend. Lightningkit was only half a moon younger but she would have been the only kit in the nursery for a half moon if they hadn't done the special arrangement.

The special arrangement was nothing more than the fact that Sparrowkit and Icekit had agreed to wait a half moon for their apprenticeship ceremony so that Lightningkit could be with them, but Sparrowkit still liked to act like it was important and big.

Lightningkit didn't seem to mind the extra element added to the situation, instead silently but playfully egging Sparrowkit on through eye contact and tail motions and so on. It was a constant battle of You-can-do-better and I'll-show-you-I-can-do-better-then!

But on top of all the silly games that had followed the agreement was the wonderful feeling of the present day- the day they were becoming apprentices. The three of them, together.

Sparrowkit's amber eyes widened, delighted, as the clan started gathering, their murmurs dying into an attentive silence.

The smooth, calm voice of her leader rang out again, full of quiet authority and a touch of pride as she gazed at the kits. "Today we gather to make three kits apprentices- Sorrelpelt and Cloudstorm's kits, Icekit and Sparrowkit, and Firelight and Stoneheart's kit, Lightningkit. Kits, please step forwards."

Tense, pelt bristling slightly, Sparrowkit edged forwards. Suddenly things had changed from her excitedly watching the clearing to all eyes landing on her and her friends, something that wasn't such a welcome feeling.

"Icekit, you have passed the age of six moons and it is time for you to begin your apprentice training," Amberstar began, stepping neatly down the tumbled rocks until she was on the ground again. "From this day on, until you receive your warrior name, you shall be known as Icepaw. Your mentor shall be Foxstorm. I hope he shall pass down all he knows to you."

Amberstar paused to glance out at the crowd, beckoning with her tail tip for the huge ginger tabby tom to come forwards.

The warrior did so, the sunlight striking his pelt like a burst of flame. He was broad-shouldered and clearly strong, yet instead of fierceness in his slanted amber eyes there was a friendly, gentle sort of look, one that instead of making Sparrowkit shrink away from him made her inch towards him.

Foxstorm halted beside Icepaw, giving him a friendly glance before turning his gaze to Amberstar, who took the opportunity to finish Icepaw's ceremony. "Foxstorm, you are ready to take on an apprentice. You received excellent training from Oakclaw, and you have shown yourself to be loyal and perseverant. You will be the mentor of Icepaw and I expect you to pass down all you know to him."

Icepaw's mentor nodded. "I promise I won't let you down," he murmured to Icepaw as the pair touched noses. Then, he calmly guided Icepaw towards the edge of the clearing where the two sat, quietly exchanging words.

Amberstar waited a moment before turning to Sparrowkit, who instinctively straightened, whiskers quivering. "Sparrowkit, you, too, have passed the age of six moons and it is time for you to begin your apprenticeship. From this day on, until you receive your warrior name, you shall be known as Sparrowpaw. Your mentor will be Roseheart. I know she will pass down all she knows to you."

"Roseheart," Amberstar continued as the small, lean pale red tabby she-cat rose to her feet, slipping through the crowd until she stood at the front, her blue eyes wide with astonishment. "You are most certainly ready to take on an apprentice. You got your excellent training from Whitesplash and you have shown yourself to be a humble and passionate warrior. You will be the mentor of Sparrowpaw and I expect you to pass down all you know to her."

Sparrowpaw turned towards her mentor, her eyes darting from head to chest to ears and so forth. Roseheart was undersized, only a little bit taller than Sparrowpaw herself. Her red tabby markings started with a tabby M on her forward and twisted into long, somewhat aged streaks running from her spine down to her chest in belly, running in circles around her neck and tail. Her paws were small, but Sparrowpaw knew they hid gleaming, sharp claws. Roseheart's eyes were a soft blue color, and she, too, had a friendly appearance. But her eyes were filled with shock and determination alongside a kind, gentle front.

The two gingerly touched noses, Sparrowpaw nearly flinching away from the touch. She still wanted to look and examine Roseheart, maybe as if she was a piece of fresh kill, but she had no choice but to go forth. Besides, she was sure Roseheart would be a good mentor.

They retreated to the side of the clearing beside Icepaw, only a few words passed between the mentor-and-apprentice pair.

Sparrowpaw was so tense she didn't hear any of Lightningkit's ceremony- she only saw her trotting over to them next to Cloudstorm, a sight that jerked her to her senses just in time to hear the clan cheering for the three of them.

"Icepaw! Sparrowpaw! Lightningpaw!"

As the calls died down, Sparrowpaw turned to Roseheart. "What are we doing first?" she asked.

Roseheart purred in amusement. "You're eager, I see. Now, I know you probably won't be very happy with this but we're going to be changing the elders' bedding."

Sparrowpaw stiffened slightly. "Well, that's not that bad," she mewed, not sure whether she was trying to convince herself or Roseheart.

She took a moment to suck in a breath of air and sink her claws into the ground. "Let's get to it, shall we? How do we do this?"

Roseheart nodded, eyes shining with relief at her apprentice's willingness. Sparrowpaw let out the breath as a gusty sigh, noting Roseheart's look with a tint of pride. She was learning- and about to learn even more- skills that she would need as a real warrior.

"I already gathered the moss- we'll do that another day- so all we have to do is take out the soiled bedding and replace it with fresh moss, okay?" Roseheart answered.  
Sparrowpaw nodded.

The two padded across the clearing to the elder's den, mentor slipping away to roll a large bundle of moss out of the shadows. Sparrowpaw moved in beside Roseheart, taking over the warrior's place and pushing the moss through the entrance of the elder's den.

The tortoiseshell tabby slipped in after it, followed closely by Roseheart. Her mentor shot a quick glance at all the nests.

"Good," she mewed. "All the elders are out in the clearing. That'll make this an easy job."

With that, the pair jumped into their task.

The six apprentices and their mentors filled the training clearing completely- at least to the point that there wasn't any extra room left for a fight.

...

Sparrowpaw- seven moons old now, an apprentice for half a moon- stood at the far side next to Lightningpaw and Icepaw. The six mentors were conversing in the middle and the other three apprentices, Lilypaw, Hazelpaw, and Tigerpaw, were on the other side of the clearing.

The mentors broke apart and Robinwing, Lilypaw's mentor, gave them a run-down. "We're going to be fighting in partners for this first part. Tigerpaw, as the oldest apprentice, will be with Lightningpaw, the youngest apprentice. Sparrowpaw will be with Lilypaw, and Icepaw with Hazelpaw. Each pair will be assigned an object to protect and each object will be placed in a circle. A pair cannot enter its item's circle unless if they are carrying a stolen item into it but other pairs can enter anytime in order to steal their object. The goal of this game is for the teams to try and defend their object while trying to steal the other two objects and bring them into their circle. Your team wins if you get all three objects in your circle. If you have zero objects in your circle and you aren't carrying or within the circle of another object then your team is out."

Lightningpaw shot a glance at Sparrowpaw, heaving a dramatic sigh. Her eyes gleamed with a mix of frustration and boredom and the tortoiseshell tabby instantly got the message- Long explanation. Boring. Ugh.

She rolled her eyes, trying to act triumphant as she pretended with one paw to pin a stick. Sparrowpaw caught a muffled snicker of amusement from her friend's direction and barely resisted a purr herself as Lilypaw shuffled over to her.

"Hi," the older apprentice muttered, staring but glaring at the same time at her.

Sparrowpaw shuffled her feet, glancing at Lilypaw. She had a beautiful and sleek cream-and-white pelt, typically unnatural for clan cats but it was said that once, back when Firestar the Great was leader, there had been a cream pelted loner who had joined the clan. Her name had been Flower or something and that was all Sparrowpaw knew; through the generations the details had been lost.

She let out a soft mew, trying to sound friendly. "Hey. You got a strategy for us to use?"

"Yeah," Lilypaw answered, sounding irritated.

Sparrowpaw flinched from her sharpness before whispering, "What is it?"

"You guard," the apprentice began, stony-faced. "I'll wait in the shadows until I see an opening- then I'll dart out and grab someone's treasure and bring it back to our circle."

"Sounds great," Sparrowpaw mewed bleakly. "Even though I barely know how to fight, I'm sure that will work perfectly."

What was wrong with the two? Sparrowpaw sighed, glancing at Lilypaw. They were still a team and they had to work together instead of apart.

Lilypaw twitched her whiskers in curt acknowledgement, as if ignoring- or maybe she hadn't heard- the sarcasm in Sparrowpaw's voice.

Then, thin, bony legs placed lightly and delicately, yet with a sort of authority that made Sparrowpaw's pelt prickle, Lilypaw stalked towards the final unclaimed circle, a pinecone sitting inside the scrappily-done line in the dirt. She sat sharply and shot an exasperated glance at Lilypaw. Come on.

Sparrowpaw slipped after her, readying her mind for the prospect of working with Lilypaw for a little bit. The older apprentice acted reserved and cold but her greater experience would be needed in order to win, and overall Sparrowpaw had a tugging feeling that wanted to try and make friends with the other she-cat- that and find the bright, happy, good side in the cream-and-white apprentice.

"Ready, set, go!" Robinwing yowled, leaping easily out of the clearing to sit beside the other mentors.

Immediately the clearing broke into action: Lilypaw slid sleekly to the side of the clearing and crouched, still as stone, in the shadows; Lightningpaw darted forwards, eyes fixed on the pinecone Icepaw was guarding, tail lashing side to side; Icepaw lowered himself, narrowing his eyes, ready to defend his trophy; Hazelpaw bounded forwards and lashed out a blow at Lightningpaw in order to drag her away from her circle; Tigerpaw lunged towards Sparrowpaw, muscles rippling under her pelt; and Sparrowpaw stiffened, sinking her claws into the ground as she stared at Tigerpaw.

Tigerpaw reached out with one broad, brown tabby paw and knocked it hard into Sparrowpaw's shoulder, whispering, "Sorry but not sorry, but I believe this pinecone belongs in my team's circle."

Sparrowpaw let out a defiant yowl. "No way!"

She nipped Tigerpaw's flank as the brown tabby darted past and struck a blow on her flank but to her dismay Tigerpaw was barely affected by her inexperienced, weaker blows. Tigerpaw skidded into the circle, grabbed the pinecone, and spun around.

The amber eyes of Tigerpaw narrowed to slits and her claws unsheathed momentarily, flashing in the sunlight before the apprentice sheathed them again.

She's trying to scare me, Sparrowpaw thought to herself, tail lashing as she dropped into a crouch. I can't let her get back, though, or we lose.

Best to try and rush her before she can construct a strategy, right?

"Hey, slow-poke! Thought you were going to try and bring that pinecone back, or did you get frightened?" Sparrowpaw sneered, puffing out her fur.

Anger burst into Tigerpaw's eyes, and then understanding. "Actually," she growled, her voice low and rumbly. "I believe you had an appointment with defeat?"

With that, Tigerpaw burst forwards, did a somewhat sloppy but somewhat neat tumble forwards, keeping low to the ground, before straightening and sprinting the rest of the way back to her circle just in time to fight off Lilypaw as she tried to escape with Tigerpaw and Lightningpaw's pinecone.

Tigerpaw snatched the pinecone from Lilypaw as they wrestled before thrusting her away, springing to her paws, and returned the pinecone back beside the other one.

Lilypaw stalked, eyes furious, back towards Sparrowpaw.

"You lost our pinecone!" she hissed.

Sparrowpaw stiffened. "You lost their pinecone!"

"But we didn't lose because of it!"

"We didn't win because of it!"

"At least Tigerpaw had to fight me!"

"I've barely been an apprentice and she's nearly a warrior- what do you expect?"

"Maybe I expect to see some performance that's at least half as good as Lightningpaw's?

The tortoiseshell tabby flinched. "Lightningpaw's talented and I'm happy for her! But I can't feel anything other than remorse for the fact that you can't even make a friend, nevertheless keep one."

Great. Now she was fighting insults with more insults.

Lilypaw widened her eyes and laughed. "Wow. Impressed. What a great comeback. Ha. Ha. Not."

Sparrowpaw lowered her head. "Stop arguing," she muttered, before turning and padding quickly around the side of the clearing towards the line of mentors.

There was no response from Lilypaw.

"Okay," Robinwing called. "This time we're going to switch things up. There will be two teams and each team will have two pinecones in a bigger circle. It will be Tigerpaw, Icepaw, and Sparrowpaw against Hazelpaw, Lilypaw, and Lightningpaw."

Sparrowpaw let out a sign of relief. She wouldn't have to work with Lilypaw.

Ever since the beginning of training that day when she had first been assigned to work with Lilypaw things had gone steadily downhill, and it wasn't just because they had been the first ones to be out of the game every round. Lilypaw had gone from unfriendly to downright coldly aggressive. Whatever Sparrowpaw said she would give a sharp retort to and all her ideas would be firmly objected and thoroughly criticized, sometimes even with invalid points.

Yet, at last, she would have a chance to be partners with at least one cat whom she knew she got along with- she was still to find out her peaceful, same-team relationship with Tigerpaw.

The three huddled beside their pinecone's circle, fur bristling in anticipation.

It was Tigerpaw who spoke first, her head swinging from side to side as she studied her teammates. Sparrowpaw cowered inwardly under her alert gaze but tried to keep a strong front as the apprentice spoke, mewing, "From watching you two in the battle and knowing my own strengths and limits, I'm not sure how we're going to pull this off."  
Sparrowpaw nodded slowly. Strengths and weaknesses… That was a good way to look at things.

Icepaw was sturdy. He was good at defensive fighting.

Tigerpaw was older and experienced. She knew lots of moves and strategies and her greater weight and size could be a great advantage.

Sparrowpaw was… well, herself. Fast, she supposed.

With those thoughts in mind, a memory came flashing back to her. A memory of the Clan of Silver Frost, a story that one of the elders had told her.

"It was cold and snowy time in the world of Silver Frost but the Clan was thriving under Eaglestar's leadership. He was a younger and newer leader but he was clever and had a sharp eye.

"Eaglestar's mate, Snowshade, had just given birth to their son, Hailkit. They loved Hailkit fiercely and would do anything to protect him, so when signs of a rogue group were found on one of the borders, he increased the border patrols along that stretch dramatically.

"Every warrior was tired from the constant patrolling- they had marked every mark along that stretch of the border millions of time it seemed, and they were overall exhausted. They tried to reason with Eaglestar- they could guard the nursery instead- but he refused. Eaglestar wanted to keep the rogues as far away from his son as possible.

"Yet the rogues were smart. They continued along the same border while sending one of their cats to travel along to the far border, invade from there, and steal Eaglestar's son so they could bribe the Clan. That tom, a dark gray tabby named River, succeeded in his mission even though his dark fur contrasted brightly against the snow. Everyone was paying attention on the far border and no one noticed him heading up the far side.

"With young Hailkit's scruff grasped in his mouth, he tore out of camp and hared back to his rogue friends. They celebrated that night while, back at home, Eaglestar and his warriors spent all night plotting how to get the little kit back.

"The Clan of Silver Frost waited two days to rest. Then they set out. Eaglestar headed the first patrol, a patrol that would openly attack the rogues. His deputy, Icefall, led the second patrol, which would sneak around the outside and steal Hailkit back while the rogues fought the first patrol, thinking that was all the fighting force. And Snowshade was in charge of the third patrol, which stayed back at camp guarding, determined not to lose any other kit. It was also rumored that Eaglestar had Snowshade stay behind so that he couldn't lose her, too.

"The fight was successful and soon Hailkit was back home with his mother, hungry and cold but overall fine and healthy. And ever since then Eaglestar made sure to keep an eye on all his borders."

Sparrowpaw widened her eyes. That was it!

"Guys," she mewed slowly. "Did you hear the tale about Hailkit, Eaglestar, and the rogues? You know, with the Clan of Silver Frost?"

Icepaw nodded. "Yeah… With River and Snowshade, too?"

Sparrowpaw purred. "That's the one!"

"Are you saying that we should use their battle strategy?" Tigerpaw mewed, thinking. "Because if so, that's actually a great idea."

"Yes!" she mewed triumphantly. "Icepaw would represent Snowshade's patrol, I would be Icefall's patrol, and you'd be Eaglestar and his group!"

Tigerpaw nodded. "Great thinking. Now, let's win this game!"

The three turned around right as Robinwing let out a yowl.

"Three, two, one, go!"

Sparrowpaw stalked towards the side of the clearing, her eyes trailing across Tigerpaw and what she would have to do. It seemed like Lightningpaw and Hazelpaw were attacking and Lilypaw was on defense.

Clenching her teeth, the tortoiseshell tabby narrowed her eyes. Thanks for being a terrible teammate- not!

Lilypaw hadn't noticed her yet, and Sparrowpaw took the opportunity to tiptoe a little bit closer towards the pinecones and into the main clearing as she traveled down the side. She placed each paw down slowly, not even daring to glance back at the others in fear the motion would give her away; no, she had to stay focused.

Lunging forwards, she grabbed a pinecone and snatched it up.

Lilypaw spun with an angry screeched, leaping for Sparrowpaw but the younger apprentice was already dashing back towards her own circle.

Lightningpaw and Hazelpaw had tried a split strategy and were on both sides of the clearing; she'd have to risk cutting straight through.

Breaking into a bound, she ended up tumbling between Tigerpaw and Icepaw into the circle, where she dropped the pinecone and hopped to her feet. Now they had one more pinecone to get.

Suddenly, Tigerpaw flicked her tail towards Sparrowpaw and then towards Lilypaw, and she tensed, springing forwards the same moment as Tigerpaw abandoned her skirmish with Hazelpaw and headed straight for Lilypaw.

"Split," the older apprentice murmured before veering to one side.

Without a second thought Sparrowpaw skidded to the other side, leaving LIlypaw trapped trying to figure out how to defend.

It was at this moment when Hazelpaw joined Lilypaw, having realized that if her team lost another pinecone they'd have lost. The brown-and-white tabby she-cat bared her teeth and rained three blows on Tigerpaw's flank but the older apprentice merely pounced forwards, using one hindpaw to knock Hazelpaw to the ground in the process.  
Sparrowpaw feinted to the left to try and shake Lilypaw off her but the cream-and-white apprentice wasn't deterred. Instead, she merely reared up, pushing herself high off the ground and landing heavily on Sparrowpaw's back.

She gasped, chest heaving for air as she scrabbled her paws against the ground. The tortoiseshell tabby could see Tigerpaw swooping up the final pinecone and pounding towards her circle; Lilypaw must have seen it as well as she hared after Tigerpaw, leaving Sparrowpaw to lay there, sucking in full breaths of air as she recovered from the squashing.

Robinwing leapt down into the clearing and that was when it broke to Sparrowpaw- they had won.

...

The eight-moon-old Sparrowpaw ran her claws gently through Squirrelfoot's ginger, searching for ticks and carefully teasing out the knots. A stick carrying mouse-bile dipped moss sat next to her, the terrible stench filling her nose as she tried to do her work.

Squirrelfoot twisted her head to glance at her. "Say, young'un," she croaked. "Would a story make your job easier?"

Sparrowpaw nodded vigorously. "One about the Clan of Silver Frost, please. I love the tales."

The elder stiffened. "What?"

"Silver Frost," Sparrowpaw repeated, making her voice louder in case the old she-cat was starting to go deaf. "The world of Silver Frost."

"I can hear you just fine," Squirrelfoot snapped. "I just don't know what that is. No cat in the history of ThunderClan or any other clan has ever said anything about such a thing! There's BloodClan and SkyClan and StarClan but other then us lake clans, there's nothing!"

Sparrowpaw quivered. "B-But... What about you ,,, Leafheart? Brightflame?" She spun to stare at the other two elders.

Leafheart shrugged and shook his gray tabby head. "Never heard of 'em."

The ginger-and-white tabby she-cat next to him shook her head as well. "Sorry, but... I've got no idea what you're talking about."

"But you're the one who told me that story about Hailkit and Eaglestar and the rogues!" Sparrowpaw stuttered at Brightflame.

She turned to look at Leafheart. "You told me one about Silver Frost, the founder of the Clan of Silver Frost!"

"And you- Squirrelfoot! You were the one who told me the story about Jaggedclaw, who tried to take control!" Sparrowpaw added.

Her fur bushed out, she stared at the elders. "Why don't you remember? You three told me so many stories- you guys and Oakfoot both!"

What was wrong with them?

For a few long moments, the silence stretched out. Then Leafheart angled his ears towards the entrance. "You've got bees in your brain. I think you'd best see the medicine cat," he told her.

"What?" Sparrowpaw exclaimed, enraged. "Icepaw knows the stories, too! He'll tell you!"

The tortoiseshell tabby spun around and snaked out of the elders, haring across the clearing and skidding to a halt beside her brother as he nibbled at a mouse. He paused as she came up to him, eyes wide and questioning.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"The elders don't remember anything about the world of Silver Frost!" Sparrowpaw told him.

Icepaw stared at her for a moment. Then he broke out laughing. "Good joke, Sparrowpaw," he puffed. "Where'd you get such a silly idea about another world? Especially one called Silver Frost? I mean, why'd you name a place Silver Frost?"

Stiffening, Sparrowpaw let her claws sink into the ground. "Stop playing a prank on me and tell me you know what I'm talking about."

"I'm not playing a prank on you!" Icepaw protested, his laughs dying away. He brought his gaze up and met Sparrowpaw's amber one steadily, mewing, "I solemnly swear I have no idea what the world of Silver Frost is."

Panic rushed through Sparrowpaw.

But the world of Silver Frost is the most popular series of tales in all the clans! Even more then Firestar's saga!

"Maybe I'd better see the medicine cat," she mewed quietly.

Turning, she padded over towards the medicine den. Icepaw padded after her, seemingly bewildered.

Nightstorm, the medicine cat, glanced up from a pile of herbs. The dark gray tabby she-cat narrowed her green eyes as she examined Sparrowpaw. "What's wrong?" she asked, her voice low and silky smooth.

"We think Sparrowpaw hit her head," Icepaw mewed. "She's been talking nonsense about this world of Silver Frost."

Nightstorm frowned. "I'll take a look at her."

...

"There doesn't seem to be anything wrong," Nightstorm reported. "Still, I've given her some herbs to help just in case."

Sparrowpaw blinked wearily. She had been given some tiny black seeds- poppy seeds, she had been told- and a few green leaves of a couple other herbs.

The medicine cat was talking with Icepaw and her parents.

Sorrelpelt and Cloudstorm huddled together anxiously, tortoiseshell fur mixing with mottled gray-and-white so that it looked like there were was only one, giant cat standing there instead of two. Her mother's green eyes shone with worry, and a sort of sympathy that made Sparrowpaw's pelt prickle.

The world of Silver Frost is real! At least, the tales do exist! They do!

"I'd like to give you a better and more detailed report," Nightstorm continued. "But usually head injuries or blows like this tend to stay uncommon. My mentor, Birdflight, herself didn't have to cover any head injuries. Hence, she had forgotten a little portion of that knowledge by the time I became an apprentice, and..."

Her voice trailed off, slightly defensive as she finished her quick speech about her mentor.

Sorrelpelt nodded. "That makes sense," she mewed, sounding somewhat flat. After all, medicine cats were supposed to know all about healing and not forget anything, right?

Sparrowpaw shook her head and sighed- she couldn't blame her mother.

"Anyways, how can we make sure she has a good recovery?" Cloudstorm asked.

The medicine cat hesitated, a shadow of doubt crossing her face.

Her mother bushed out her fur and arched her back, eyes becoming slightly wild. "Don't tell me," she whispered. "She can recover, right?"

Nightstorm took a deep breath. "Normally, yes. But she shows no sign of injury that I can find- if it is actually something worse then a head blow, then it is possible that she's becoming... well, crazy, you might say. Still, don't worry abo-"

"Don't worry about it?" Sorrelpelt exclaimed, her eyes changing to furious. "My daughter might be going crazy and you tell me not to worry about it?"

The medicine sighed. "True. Anyways, I will be making the journey to the moonpool about ten days' time. I'll ask StarClan about Sparrowpaw then."

Cloudstorm sighed as well, pressing gently against Sorrelpelt. "I suppose that's the best you can do. Thank you."

"Yeah," Icepaw mewed, piping up. The whole time he had stayed quiet, his gaze straying from Sparrowpaw to Nightstorm, a mood so different from his normal cheerful and playful self. Sparrowpaw stared at his paws as he continued, feeling slightly guilty for this sudden strain of his. But the Silver Frost was a real tale, and she couldn't back down. "You did your best, so... thanks."

Nightstorm turned and locked her gaze with Sparrowpaw. "This must be somewhat traumatizing for you," she mewed sympathetically. "I'm sorry."

Sparrowpaw narrowed her amber eyes, fighting to hold back the growl that tried to rumble in her throat and burst out into a low, angry noise.

"I don't need your sympathy."

Sorrelpelt gave her a sad, sad glance from behind Nightstorm, one that made Sparrowpaw's heart feel like it was quivering. She dropped her gaze and stared at her paws. "I'm sorry," she murmured. "But I'm not crazy."

...

Two days passed. Two long, long days of sleeping, curled up in her temporary nest in the medicine. It was two days of being checked over, of being asked questions, of being pestered by tiny kits who wanted to be abel to boast that they had talked to the crazy ThunderClan apprentice.

Two days of torture.

Sparrowpaw sighed, staring at her paws. What had she done to be confined like this? A little altercation with the elders, somewhat, but... Otherwise she hadn't done anything but state the truth. And they were all lying and refusing to acknowledge it.

A low growl sounded.

She stopped it. Aggression and frustration had gotten her nowhere.

And then? Then she was suddenly swept away from the same-old, same-old scene of the medicine den and washed into a snowy world.

It was all white- everything. No gray rock, no green tree. All was snowy white. There was a light layer of snow falling from the sky, landing so gently and perfect. She thought she could just hear the rush of a chilly mountain stream, maybe the only water source in the land.

A sound came from behind her, and Sparrowpaw spun around.

Nightstorm was standing at the mouth of a small tunnel, her mouth opening and closing rapidly as if she was mewing something.

Sparrowpaw peered behind her into the tunnel. After a few fox-lengths it was solid black, and it looked to her as if it never ended.

She glanced behind her. The snowy, chilly, frosty, hail-y, sleet-y, world.

There was something about this place... Something familiar. Something that she was sure that she knew what it was but she couldn't quite figure out what it was.

"Sparrowpaw!" Nightstorm's voice exclaimed. A paw clouted her ear.

The snowy world disappeared.

She was in the medicine cat den again, Nightstorm staring worriedly at her.

Sparrowpaw blinked. "Huh?"

"At last!" the medicine cat exclaimed, sounding relieved. "You've been acting strange, and when I called for you, all you did was turn around, stare at me, and then turn back around again."

Sparrowpaw shuddered. "You didn't see it?" she mewed quietly.

Nightstorm shook her head. "No... What did you see?" Her voice was gentle but pressing.

"Never mind," she mewed quickly. She still had to figure out what the snowy world was.

...

One day had passed since she had seen the frosty world, and Sparrowpaw was trying to forget it as best she could. The tortoiseshell tabby kept herself busy helping Nightstorm sort herbs, doing the apprentice chores for the other apprentices, eating, and sleeping

Still, it was hard to ignore the... the vision. Nightstorm had made Sparrowpaw promise to keep the Incident, as the medicine cat called it, between the two of them, but she only knew what she had seen from the real world. She didn't know what Sparrowpaw had seen, but if she did... She probably would have called Sparrowpaw insane. After all, only medicine cats had visions, not ordinary apprentices, of all cats.

"Hey, cheer up!" a strange voice mewed.

Sparrowpaw jerked her head up, staring around wildly.

She was back in the snowy world. "Who are you?" she answered quietly, fur bristling. "I'm not crazy!"

"Of course you're not!" the exclaim answered, sounding shocked. "You'll never be crazy. I'm sorry about the Silver Frost forgetting incident thing with your clan, but we had to tamper with the past so that it would be easier for you to complete your mission."

"...What mission?" Sparrowpaw asked, becoming curious. "Are you saying the Silver Frost doesn't exist, it just happened so I could complete a... a mission?"

Silence. And then a rushed response. "Yep, pretty much. And you get to find out your mission. Sorry about that silence, forgot you can't see me. I might have received plenty of signs as a medicine cat, but I never gave any."

Sparrowpaw widened her eyes. "Medicine cat? So you're from StarClan?"

The voice gave her a quick answer. "Yep. Birdflight of ThunderClan."

"Nightstorm's mentor?" she whispered. "Can't you visit her and tell her I'm not crazy?"

"I would," Birdflight answered. "And I will at the moonpool. But I think you'll need to skip warrior training in order to prepare for your mission. Don't you agree?"

This time, the voice seemed to come from behind her. Slowly, Sparrowpaw turned, only to catch the hazy outline of a cat disappearing as Birdflight murmured, "Good luck and goodbye."

Sparrowpaw stood there in silence as the frosty, snowy world faded back to the medicine den yet again.

 _I can't ignore the first vision anymore. According to Birdflight, I've got a mission, and I'm determined to complete it. I've got to._

"So the Silver Frost tales aren't real amongst the clans... But StarClan placed them into here on purpose. So I should find out what that purpose is," Sparrowpaw mewed to herself. "And Birdflight said that I would have to prepare for said mission."

 _What do I have to do?_

...

Another day of wonder and thought, this time trained specifically on the visions. She still did chores and duties, yes, but her heart wasn't in it. Her heart was in the mission that Birdflight had mentioned. That Birdflight had said was her mission. One that she had to complete.

And this time, when the snowy, frosty world appeared and took her vision, she wasn't surprised nor startled.

"Isn't the world of Silver Frost beautiful?" Birdflight mewed.

Sparrowpaw bristled. This she hadn't expected. "This is the world of Silver Frost?"

She took a few steps forwards, glancing around the landscape. Birdflight was right. It was pretty- most certainly beautiful.

...

What surprised Sparrowpaw was the break the next three days that followed. No visions, no dreams, no signs- nothing that involved connecting with StarClan, Silver Frost, and most importantly Birdflight.

At last, though, on the fourth day, when she curled up in her nest to sleep, Birdflight greeted her in a dream.

 _"You ready?" the starry cat mewed._

 _Sparrowpaw widened her eyes. "At last! You've been silent for so long! And ready for what?"_

 _She caught a twinkle of green eyes as Birdflight mewed, "To meet the others. Silverheart and Frostfern. If it wasn't for them, we wouldn't know of your mission. Though technically, I suppose it's because of their names, so we should thank the ones who named them that." Her voice was tinted with amusement at the end._

 _The tortoiseshell tabby blinked. "Guess so," she answered. "So... How and where do we meet them? Are they here in the Silver Frost with us or are they in StarClan?"_

 _"Right here," a high-pitched, feminine voice announced. "I'm Frostfern, and if Silverheart will only speak up you'll get to meet her, too."_

 _"If you see me, you'd see me rolling my eyes right now," a lower, deeper voice sounded, most exasperated. "But my voice will have to do. Anyways, nice to meet you, I'm Sivlerheart, so on."_

 _Sparrowpaw quivered, letting a small purr of laughter escape. "Well... nice to meet you, too, but I'm kind of wondering why we're meeting?"_

 _"That," Silverheart exclaimed. "Is a mix of fate and destiny. Oh, and the need of the clans."_

 _"Say what?" Sparrowpaw answered. She didn't feel that she had gotten any sort of an answer from that statement. "Please elaborate."_

 _There was a hushed whispering that combined low and high pitched voices, and the tortoiseshell tabby guessed that her starry visitors were more or less arguing. She twitched her whiskers, amused, as Frostfern squealed, "You tell her, okay? I'm not a public speaker!"_

 _Birdflight's voice sounded gently in her ear. "They're not very mature really, are they?" she murmured._

 _Sparrowpaw nodded vigorously._

 _"Okay, anyways," Silverheart mewed loudly. "We're here to riddle your mission to you or however you want to put it."_

 _Sparrowpaw narrowed her eyes. "Go on."_

 _Silverheart shared an excited glance with Frostfern. "Thru the tunnel to snowy world, follow the path of whitest storm, find the cave of silver stones, and kill the claws of lake's cold."_

 _Stiffening slightly, Sparrowpaw widened her eyes. "Part of me says it should be vaguer. The other part of me says there's no information there," she muttered to Birdflight._

 _"Just think about," the spirit mewed softly. "And prepare. Prepare for a journey in four days' time."_

 _And then she was plunged back into the real world._

Sparrowpaw blinked, sitting up in her nest and looking quickly over both shoulder. She was alone in the medicine den- maybe that would help her prepare for StarClan-knew-what.

How was she supposed to prepared, though?

"Eat lots of food," she muttered. "Drink. And maybe exercise so I'm fit... And learn a little bit about herbs so if I'm hurt I can heal myself."

Sparrowpaw nodded to herself and stood fully, slipping out of the medicine den and trotting towards the fresh-kill pile.

 _Whatever I have got to do, I'm going to do it._

...

 _"Prepare for a journey in four days' time."_

Sparrowpaw gulped down the last bite of shrew before padding towards the dirt place. Today was the day that she made her way to the tunnel, wherever it was, and would end up in the world of Silver Frost.

She slipped into the dirt place, padding around the outskirts until she reached the far end. Here she had discovered a small whole in the thick bramble and fern wall where the tortoiseshell tabby could squeeze through and escape camp unnoticed.

Sparrowpaw dropped onto her belly and carefully pulled herself forwards, taking care to not rip her fur along the brambles above her. She couldn't afford to leave a trail behind.

Out of camp, she straightened and broke into a run, weaving through the trees but coming to a complete halt as she realized she still didn't know where she was going.

 _Tunnels could be in WindClan,_ she pondered.

Nodding to herself, she continued at a brisk pace towards the stream.

...

At the WindClan boundary she looked left and right. Nothing and no one.

"Be careful as you pass by my apprentice," Birdflight's voice whispered to her.

Sparrowpaw straightened. "Of course!" she exclaimed. "The moonpool's a megical place- no wonder it can connect with the world of Silver Frost!"

The apprentice turned, darting up alongside the stream towards the moonpool. She had heard a little bit about the path and journey, which would be plenty enough to get her there safely.

Nightstorm had left camp at about sunhigh, so she would probably be there by now. Sparrowpaw would have to hope that she and the other clan medicine cats would be sleeping already so that she could search the area.

"Thanks, Birdflight," Sparrowpaw murmured.

...

Today must've been her day. Nightstorm was sound asleep along with the other medicine cats and it took her only a few moments to find the tunnel.

Sparrowpaw took a deep breath and plunged in.

...

One day had passed when Sparrowpaw finally saw light up ahead.

Whiskers trembling, she hastened her pace, eyes protesting at the sudden brightness but her mind delighted to find herself at the end of the tunnel. She was parched from the day for travelling through the tunnel- starved, too.

She rounded a bend and stopped, staring, her jaw dropping.

In front of her lay a vast, snowy land.

The world of Silver Frost.

It was just as the tales has described it. Endless hills of white snow, the world filled with nothing but whiteness and the blue yonder. The place seemed barren and bleak, yet Sparrowpaw reminded herself it was the start of an adventure. A mission.

The breeze was cold, blasting straight through her fur and chilling her bones. When she breathed out, the air turned white. The snow crunched gently, lightly, under her paws.

Everything was perfect.

Sparrowpaw sucked in a breath of cold mountain air, her eyes widening even more as she gazed around.

It was beautiful, just like her dreams of the place.

Another blast of wind reminded her that she had to find shelter- not only did she need food and water but she desperately needed sleep.

Sparrowpaw took a few steps forward, hunching her body and bracing herself against the gusts. In the endless white, it was hard to see much detail. She could only see the vast piles- mountains- of snow rising up around her, higher and higher, seemingly endless towers of white fluff.

The apprentice let out a squeal of pain as her foot dipped suddenly into a hole, twisting slightly.

She staggered backwards a step, her gaze landing on a small dip in the ground. Earlier it had been hidden by snow but now that her paw had applied pressure, it was an obvious dip.

 _Shelter?_

Sparrowpaw dug into the snow, surprised to find a layer of gray rock a little ways down on the sides of her growing hole. If she were to dig it out a little more and build up the snow aboveground as walls to help block drafts, it would probably work fine as a shelter.

The apprentice padded into the dip in the ground and curled up, too tired to feel the true cold of the snow as it pressed against her.

 _..._

 _It must have been the worst part of leaf-bare. The ThunderClan camp was covered in snow, the cats desperately huddling together for warmth._ _The pale brown tabby tom set down a thick, sturdy icicle, planting it into the ground. He placed one paw on top and pressed on the cold stick, his eyes closing as he murmured something._

 _"Send the snow away, send us back a sunny day," he seemed to be saying. Something like that._

 _Slowly, the snow seemed to dissolve and disappear, the dark and gloomy sky becoming bright._

 _The ThunderClan cats stared in astonishment as sunlight began to pool in the clearing, the leaf-bare seemingly entirely gone._

 _..._

Sparrowpaw jerked awake.

Was she supposed to find one of the icicle things? But leaf-bare had barely begun!

 _Wait..._ The apprentice stiffened. Something cold was hailing down on her... Something chilling yet light and fluffy.

Slowly, she turned her head. Snow. Snowstorm.

Big snowstorm.

Sparrowpaw turned her focus to the terrain around her, but the fierce blizzard blocked her vision. It was like a wall of white, blinding her, rooting her to the spot in fear, burying her alive,

The apprentice let out a yowl, trying to awaken herself. Her place wasn't going to be very safe for long. She would have to go now, while she was warmer then she would be later, and try to find a cave or something where she could hide in until the blizzard passed.

She struggled to her feet and hunched her figure, breaking into as fast a pace as the tortoiseshell tabby apprentice could managed as she waded through the blizzard.

"Shelter?" she called, sighing internally. That wouldn't help her, calling out to nothing.

But it wouldn't hurt, would it? "Shelter! Cave, where are you?"

 _No! This is what a crazy cat would do! Stop this!_ Sparrowpaw chided herself as she sank, with a yowl, into a loose snow drift.

She struggled back out and continue forwards until her nose bumped into something hard and cold. Stone.

"Cave?"

Using her whiskers, she felt around until she found an empty gap; Sparrowpaw dropped to her stomach and wriggled inside the cave, purring in relief as she came into a large and surprisingly well-lit cave with-

With thick, sturdy icicles ranging from the size of small trees to the size of mice raining down and out from everywhere. The walls, the ceiling, and even parts of the floor were covered with the icicles, all just like the one in her dream that the pale brown tabby tom had used to change the season.

Sparrowpaw stumbled forwards.

If she had to find them, then today was her lucky day.

She wandered through the maze of crystal-clear ice until she came upon one of the smaller ones, the perfect size for her to hold easily. Tomorrow she would find the tunnel and begin the day-long journey back to ThunderClan.

Her stomach rumbled. Loudly. Sparrowpaw still hadn't eaten since before she had left camp three days ago. She had ignored it in the tunnel, been too sleepy when she first surfaced, and then completely forgot during the race for shelter from the blizzard.

Tomorrow she would head back home with the icicle- after she had found something to eat.

...

Sparrowpaw let out a delighted mew as she collapsed to the ground, surrounded by the moonpool on one side and the slope leading down to the moonpool on the other. She was home.

She let out a squeak as the icicle she had brought with her slid down towards the moonpool, which- she realized with a start- was frozen over.

It was leaf-bare, and very deeply so. But it was barely the end of leaf-fall when she had left ThunderClan- so why was it suddenly all cold and snowy, just like the world of Silver Frost? Had something happened while she was gone?

A familiar dark gray tabby shape appeared over the edge of the slope, followed by a ginger tabby, a gray-and-white that hid well in the snow, and an brilliant shining black coat. All four looked to be supremely skinny, nothing more then four bags of bones.

"Nightstorm!" Sparrowpaw called.

The ThunderClan medicine cat pricked her ears. Then she darted over.

"Who are you?" she asked, staring at Sparrowpaw.

The tortoiseshell tabby fluffed up her fur indignantly, somehow finding the time to be angry and annoyed. "I'm Sparrowpaw! Icepaw's sister, the daughter of Sorrelpelt and Cloudstorm? Lightningpaw's best friend? You know, so on? Roseheart's apprentice? The cat who might've been crazy?"

Slowly, realization dawned in Nightstorm's eyes. "Icestorm's sister, yes... I remember you. He, Lightningflash, and your parents were devastated when we found you were gone."

"Wait, but, I was gone for five days! So how come they're warriors?" Sparrowpaw exclaimed, tilting her head to ones side.

Nightstorm frowned. "It's been eight moons, actually. The clans have nearly starved to death. Where were you?"

The tortoiseshell tabby widened her eyes. _Eight moons?_ "I was in the world of Silver Frost. It's real, I promise you. You follow that tunnel-" she pointed towards it "-till it ends, a day long journey, and then there you are. The world of Silver Frost, a beautiful place. How long has leaf-bare been going on?"

"Fascinating. We'll have to send a patrol there later to learn more," the medicine mewed. "Oh, and your question. Two seasons' worth of time," Nightstorm answered.

 _So my duty is to use the icicle and change leaf-bare into green-leaf!_

Sparrowpaw nodded, growing somewhat cheerful. "Give me a moment."

She padded down towards the frozen moonpool and grasped the icicle, lifting it up before slamming it down into the ground so that it stood up by itself, like a stake. Then, she placed one tortoiseshell tabby paw on top of it and pressed down.

"Send the snow away, send us back a sunny day," she chanted.

And then it happened.

Sparrowpaw blinked, gasping in astonishment at the snow melted away. Leaves sprouted rapidly from the nearby trees, growing into lush colors of vibrant greens. A few birds started to sing in the background as sun, just like in her dream, pooled around in the clearing.

It was green-leaf. Hot air ruffled her tortoiseshell tabby pelt, so different from the aching cold that she had lived in for the past few days. Part of Sparrowpaw felt like it was too hot- stuffing her lungs with burning air, the moonpool looking like it was boiling.

She blinked, and the extreme heat effects vanished. A perfectly perfect green-leaf was left.

"How did you-" Nightstorm's jaw dropped open. "What just- What that- Where did- Great StarClan is- Why did that-"

The medicine paused and seemed to settle on a shocked silence.

"Let's get you back to camp."

"Yes, please. I need food, water, and rest." Sparrowpaw agreed very quickly, purposefully kicking the icicle into the moonpool to melt as the group of shocked medicine cats turned around and began the journey back to their homes- or to ThunderClan, she couldn't quite tell.

After all, they wouldn't be needing to fix the season anytime soon. ThunderClan and the other clans had been saved, and Sparrowpaw had succeeded.

"Thank you," Birdflight's voice whispered to her.


	19. Crystal Mountain Drabble

"I don't know what you're talking about!" I hissed to the brown tabby tom facing me.

His eyes narrowed dangerously. "Yes you do!" he snarled. Lifting one large forepaw, he swatted at me.

"I don't know your secret!" I cried again.

He lunged for me and I made an instinctive dodge to the left. I was lucky that I was small and swift. No wonder, though. I was a WindClan warrior. But why did the ThunderClan tom think that I knew something about him?

I growled. I couldn't think about that now. I had to fight him- fight and win.


	20. Crystal Mountain Sacred Blood

_"Who are they?" I ask, ears pricked curiously as I watch the large group of cats crowded around._

 _My mom... My poor mom, who died yesterday in a battle with ShadowClan, touches her nose to mine. Behind her stands my father, dead, and my three siblings, deceased and with the stars like the rest of them._

 _"They're family," my mother, Leaftail, murmurs. "Each and every one of them."_

 _Gaze landing on a lithe ginger shape, something flashes in my mind._

 _"That-that looks like the stories of Windstar," I exclaim. "Is... Is that really her?"_

 _Leaftail nods. "Yes," she breathes. "And now you're her last living descendent. Make us all proud, Sandclaw. I know you can."_

I jerk awake in a heartbeat.

I... I'm the last living descendent of Windstar? The _first_ leader of WindClan? And Gorsestar was the second, and he was Windstar's mate, that means I'm related to the first _two_ leaders!

My fur bristles as I jump to my feet and shake out my fur.

Thoughts are spinning in my mind, and at last I can form a clear thought.

 _If my ancestors were famous leaders of WindClan, doesn't that mean I deserve to be leader as well? I'm one of our strongest warriors in battle, and I carry sacred blood. And mom said to make her proud, doesn't that mean she knows I'm destined to be leader?_

But Harestar wouldn't just make me leader.

 _This is my destiny,_ I reminded himself. _If things get messy, let them get messy. I'm destined to lead the Clan- it's in my blood!_

Crossing the clearing quickly, I dart into Harestar's den like a bullet. The black-and-white furred leader is grooming himself and he growls at me. "I didn't ask you to enter," he states, hopping to his feet. "Why are you here?"

"Claiming what's mine!" I exclaim. "I am the last living descendent of Windstar- I'm _destined_ to be leader."

Harestar's fur bushes out. "What do you mean, Sandclaw?" he mews slowly.

I leap at him, scrabbling for a grip on his throat, but he leaps up nimbly and lands on my back, pressing my to my ground. In my insane, wild haze of thought, I remember that though I am a good fighter, Harestar is the best in the Clan by far. How could I have thought that it was possible to defeat him?

When teeth close around someone's throat, it is I who am dying, not him.

Everything goes black, and one last thought trickles.

 _This wasn't the way to make mother proud, was it?_


	21. Crystal Mountain Trail of Thunder

I hear the hail pounding against the cold, dark stone, and I can hear pounding again the grassy strip alongside the Thunderpath. I can tell I am trembling, because my legs feel wobbly and my mentor starts pressing firmly against me to keep me steady. I was never excited to cross the Thunderpath, but crossing it in a hailstorm?

My mentor said we had to cross, because we had to scout for a safer place for WindClan to stay. This was the fifth snowstorm in the past moon and our camp's meager shelter of heather and gorse was not enough to keep us safely out of the snow.

"Come on, Thurshpaw," my mentor urges me. "We only have to cross twice, and once we're over, the woodlands aren't far. There's not too far to go!"

"Right," I croak, queasy. "We h-have to cross."

My mentor turns her dark green eyes away from me to glance back in the direction of our camp. "Graystar shouldn't have sent an apprentice on this journey," she murmured to herself.

I bristle slightly, because it makes me angry that she doubts I could do it. I am a warrior apprentice, after all, so I should be strong enough to last through a hailstorm and a journey! I force myself to take a step forwards, and a monster whizzes past, the metallic red color flashing past my eyes and making me leap backwards to crouch on the ground.

"Palewind," I whimper. "Do we r-really have to cross?"

She sighs. "Yes, Thrushpaw. Now, when I say go, run as if a whole pack of dogs are behind, and whatever you do, _don't stop_."

Stopping in the middle of the Thunderpath sounds like just about the worst thing to do right now.

I give a small, shaky nod and we line up beside the Thunderpath.

"Go!" Palewind yowls, and we charge forwards together.

A roar starts to rise- another monster is coming past, and the dense hail blinds my vision in a flurry of hard white pellets. However hard I run, it seems as if I can't escape the throbbing noise and that seems to shake my bones. I squeeze my eyes to a tightly shut position and rocket across the other side of the Thunderpath, stumbling in a ditch and rolling to a halt in the white snow.

Slowly, I open my eyes.

I'm alive.

Palewind crouches, panting, beside me. "Good job," she breathes. "Now we just have to find shelter."

 _I'm alive._


End file.
